Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives.

~C. S. Lewis

Winter Holidaze

The winter holidays are approaching quickly and with it the journey back to my hometown to see family. My hometown, the small coastal community that has grown too large for its britches, is no longer the home in my memories. When I return, places and people are familiar, but it as though they are from a dream, slightly familiar but appear different.

I think of the people I have known over the years and those I have been close with and they all seem to distant as thought when I see them again, it will be like meeting them for the first time. And then there is the sadness of the relationships that have not survived. It seems that my hometown is harboring more sadness as the years pass than joyous memories. Unresolved issues create baggage that no matter how hard I try, follows me around and stubbornly will not leave.

So, with a nonexistent home and disillusioned perception of the place I lived for so long I am hesitantly approaching the drive down for the holidays. Each time I go, I think, this time it will be different and I will rekindle something or find something anew, but I find that over the years it is drama that has been found and sadness that has been created, both of which I can gladly do without.

Therefore, I am attempting to travel south with no expectations and an open...... mind, hoping for the best and searching for the strength to shrug off the negative, selfishness that I will face.

Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.
~ Mahatma Gandhi

Time is hectic and although there are many tasks to tend to and little time to do so, I find myself stubbornly resisting and digging in my heels like am obstinate mule. There are other projects, that entice me and lure my attentions away from work, yet I do not heed to these distractions, because that is exactly what they are and above all else, I just want to be done with my time in North Carolina and moving on with my life.

The blatant fact that I do not where or what I am moving onto looms over me, but I have taken the stance that it can't be any worse than the present, when in fact I know it can... and that worries me.

Not to completely be negative... there are some positive events, although intermittent and fleeting, I enjoy them as much as possible. Basically it boils down to the fact that I am not happy here, but I wonder if I will ever be happy. Is it the place or is it me? More and more emphasis is placed on the place and other tell me it is not me, but I wonder.

Before even leaving Greeville, Saturday started out with positive new interactions, exciting me about what is to come. Having worked so hard leading up to the conference, there was little time to plan or research outings and the places I was going to visit [in Rhode Island and NYC]. Going on a 'take it as it comes' basis, it was nice to start the trip with meeting new friendly faces.

Fall Feat

Before even leaving Greenville, Saturday started out with positive new interactions, exciting me about what is to come. Having worked so hard leading up to the conference, there was little time to plan or research outings and the places I was going to visit. Going on a 'take it as it comes' basis, it was nice to start the trip with meeting new friendly faces.

After a somewhat tumultuous landing, with a tropical storm spinning high speed winds offshore the new england coast, I arrived in Rhode Island. As the drizzling rain continued falling, I took an informative cab ride from the airport to the hotel. Conveniently, the hotel we booked was located just down the road from what is called 'the hill', which is an italian neighborhood where I found a wonderful bakery. Even more conveniently, the hotel was a mere 1/2 block from the convention center, where ERF was held, and a few blocks from the train station.

Sunday morning I headed for the train station and caught the early train to Boston to meet up with a friend and explore the city. Being my first time on a train in the east coast, I soon fell in love with the possibility of living in a place where public transport was available and one was able to travel to nearby city for the day. Within 50 minutes, I was taken from Providence, Rhode Island to Boston, Massachusetts, the simplicity of which guffawed me.

After wandering around Boston in the cold dry air, I came upon on of the many Starbuck's [which are located on every block, in case you would ever need one]. Nika met up with me shortly thereafter and we amiably wandered around the city until later that afternoon when it was time for each of us to catch our trains. I arrived back in Providence just in time to register for the conference and get cleaned up for the welcome function.

Unlike the few geology conferences I've attended, ERF definitely made expensive registration fees worthwhile. In addition to the very tasty food served during the welcome function, they also served lunch and complementary coffee every day. This in addition to the hotel [which I am not used to staying in] spoiled me, to say the least.

The first day of the conference was filled with interesting presentations about climate change related topics, a few of which were given by colleagues on the NC Sea-Level Rise Project. That evening, I had the pleasure of having dinner with an old friend of the family and her husband. I was a bit hesitant, being that I had not seen her in many years, but had a wonderful time and enjoyed it immensely.

The second day of the conference, I was scheduled to present my poster during the lunch break. Although I was a bit nervous, it went splendidly. I had some good conversations and discussions about the project and data. It was wonderful to be able to talk with others who are familiar with similar data analysis methods. That afternoon, I enjoyed the high from the positive interactions, even one in which a scientist commented that he 'liked my enthusiasm', something I was surprised to hear, being that I am generally not enthusiastic about my work.

The third of the conference was less enthralling, with few presentations that were pertinent or relevant to my area of study. So, I took the opportunity to catch up on some nap time and preparing for my departure to NYC the next day. Because I was taking the train from Providence to NYC, I only wanted to have to carry one bag and was thankfully able to leave the bulk of my luggage with a friend who drove up and agreed to escort my baggage back to Greenville.

Getting all the luggage squared away and with few pertinent presentations on Thursday, I made my routine visit to the awesome bakery [as routine as one can be with only a few days in town] and then decided to check out a bit of Providence before heading over to New York. While wandering around the area near the hotel, I stumbled upon a few fantastic book stores. However, noon soon came around and it was time to catch the train. After about 4 hours scenic hours on the train I arrived in Penn Station, NY and started the third part of my traveling adventure.

My friend, Ben, met me at the train station and after a warm welcoming hug, we headed out into the city. With large towering buildings and swarms of people moving individually, yet collectively along the sides of the city streets, like trained ants, we fell in step and were soon lost in the swarm. Surprisingly, it was not as overwhelming as I thought it was going to be and I found it easy to move and make my way.

The city life is definitely foreign to me. It is supreme people watching and free entertainment environment. While crammed into a subway train, with little to no personal space, it amazed me how the locals can live like that yet and be so distant from one another. How people can be so close in physical space, yet not connect?

Arriving in the city on Thursday was a good time because that gave us Friday to explore the museums and other places that would otherwise be overpopulated on a weekend. After looking through the exhibits at the various museums, we decided to visit the Guggenheim. Neither of us were familiar with the Richard Prince, the main artist showing, but I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed his work immensely. His approach is simple, yet humorous and I really liked his style overall.

Unfortunately, it was raining Friday, so we took our time in the museum and then made our way back to the apartment. We decided to catch a film at a small arthouse theatre, Sunshine Cinema, around the corner that was showing Into The Wild. The movie is based on the book by Jon Krakauer, who helped Sean Penn, the director, adapt it for the screen. Having read the book years ago, I had been anxiously awaiting it's release and was ecstatic to be able to see it at the Sunshine Cinema. The theatre fondly reminded me of the Hippodrome Theatre in Gainesville, Fl where friends and me have spent many evenings enjoying independent foreign films. The theatre was packed and we had to sit close to the screen, but it was great to see the story onscreen. There were some changes that I did not remember taking place in the book, but overall the story was well represented and I am happy it will be able to reach a larger audience.

Saturday was a lazy day. We headed out into the city and wandered around a bit and ordered food int hat evening. The food was so good in New York and it was surprising not that expensive. The portions are perfect and the prices are reasonable, especially after coming from Grenville, where food is so much more expensive than what I'm used to, the portions are not too large or too small and there are not many choices for someone who doesn't eat meat laden meals.

With Sunday being my last full day before heading back to NC, we decided to hit the thrift shops and see if we could find any good deals.... this of course after visiting Central Park. We walked form the east village, where the apartment is to the Southwestern corner of Central Park and then explored it's vastness. We later followed the outing with a few second hand/thrift shops. We took the train over over to Brooklyn, where we looked back toward Manhattan [pictured below], and later walked over to Greenwich Village and then looked across the Hudson River at New Jersey.



The trip back to North Carolina was not as enjoyable and interactions were at a minimum. I had my last hurrah with public transport as we made our way to the airport. After saying good-bye to Ben and savoring our hug, I made my way to the gate and patiently waited for the plane. Although the place arrived over an hour late, I was able to make my connecting flight and made it back to NC safe and sound. It was wonderful to be greeted by those copper eyes and fluffy butt. As I settled into bed, my own bed that I hadn't slept in for over a week, it's familiarness was comforting, but I yearned to be elsewhere.

Another semester, another poster

It's the classic story. Girl meet boy. Girl likes boy. Girl and boy date. Boy becomes distanced with work. Girl and boy decide to 'just be friends'. Typical story that happens to millions. Girl walks away with bruised feelings, but is thankful for the opportunity to get to know and meet someone she now cares for.

All well and good, right? Except when followed by the following typical story.... Girl wakes to phone ringing at 4:30 a.m. Boy's been shot. As her breath leaves her body, she can't believe what she's hearing... is this a sick joke? After feverishly ringing the hospital, which offers no information, she wonders if she should even go. Does he even want to see her? It's been a week since they 'talked' and though hours before 'the incident' they ran into eachother at an art show and interacted fine, she is unsure of her role. Where does she fit into the situation? She goes to the hospital anyway, "what do I have to loose?", she asks herself. After wondering around the hospital, trying to find information about the boy, she becomes more and more upset. As her feelings for him become stronger, she realized how much she cares for him.

The following tumultuous days were filled with overwhelming emotion about the boy while a conference deadline quickly approached. She miraculously was able to work through tears rising and falling from her eyes throughout the day as all she wanted to do was be with the boy and help him recover. In the short daily visits she was able to work into her schedule, the important conference became more of an inconvenient obligation. After a mere five days in the hospital, the boy was sent home, two and a half hours away. Happy for the boys quick recovery, but sad to not be able to see him, she rings him to see how his recovery is going. She hears back from him a few days later.

He is thankful for her visits to the hospital, is planning on returning to school in a week. She will be out of town at that time and the conversation ends with the boy saying he'll ring her later on. Filled with unexpressed emotions, the girl leaves for her conference, which is followed by a short holiday, all the while distracted by thoughts of the boy. In places new to her, she is reminded of him and wakes up from a dream about him... all the while trying to move beyond her feelings and what has occurred.

After returning from her trip and not having heard from the boy, the girl is informed he is dating someone. How quickly one is able to move on... especially when he did not want to be in a "relationship" with anyone, or so he told her. The untruthfulness of what has occurred hurts and angers the girl, allowing her to walk away, yet question why she let herself be disrespected.

Why is one who is so conscious of hurting others so susceptible to being hurt?

He speaks....

Yesterday, I went to see David Sedaris speak in Norfolk, Virginia. Surprisingly, even though he spent a large portion of his childhood in North Carolina, the closest venue to hear the comical short story writer speak was two and a half hours away. So, a friend and I decided to make a day of it and satiate our unrelenting yearnings to get out of Greenville and visit someplace different.

Having only spent a brief time in Virginia, consisting of the short drive throughs on my way to another state, I thought it would be enjoyable to see what coastal Virgina has to offer. At 8 a.m. Sunday morning we hitched our bikes to the back of my friends little white sedan and headed north through a series of long curvy country roads. Upon arrival, and with no real plan, we did what college student does when first arriving in a new place... found a quaint little coffee shop and settled into the events of the day.

After hours of riding around the city, a tour around a gigantic sailing boat in the process of sailing around the world from Argentina, and a visit to Virginia Beach, we were entertained by Sedaris' reading of some of his essays. With four books in print, we were unsure what the content of his readings would be. However, after listening to some new essays and the reading of one from his books, we left the theatre with sore stomach and tear eyed, laughing so hard we cried. We grabbed a super scrumptious veggie patty sub from subway, not available in good ole Greenville, and settled back into the little white sedan. As the odometer turned over 200,000 miles, we headed south bracing ourselves for the Monday that lied in wait for us in good ole Greenville.

In need of a break from the monotonousness of work, I decided to treat myself to a movie, albeit a matinee to lessen the impact on my wallet. So, I left work a bit early to head over to the cinema to see Feast of Love. Yes, a girlie flick if there ever was one, but with my recent strike out while up at bat at the game of dating I thought I could use it.... and I am very happy I went. One of the main messages that rang in my ears after the film ended was the concept of being with someone that cares for you as much as you care for them. As with my recent escapade this is an imbalanced component that seems to thrive in my relationships, romantic and otherwise.

Being aware and open to other's and their feelings is something that comes easily to me, and being one that likes to please others, this gift is highly utilized. However, I've painfully found that others do not commonly posses such perception and the result has been a continuous string of painful circumstances. So, what am I going to do now?

I don't know.

It seems the only thing left to do is wake up yet again tomorrow and make my way through the day, cherishing the fleeting often not present interactions with others. I mean it boils down to this, I want to be loved, like every other conscious living thing in the universe. This does not necessarily mean I want a lover or a partner, truthfully, what I miss the most are the close friends I once had. Now there is so much hurt clouding everything, suffocating simple conversations, to the point where I don't know how to or if I want to try.

I wonder, if like Chloe in the movie, I would have gone through with certain relationships, had I known their demise. At this point, questioning the benefit of it all, I can't say that I would have forged ahead.

Beaches and barrier islands

Returning from a camping trip on Ocracoke Island, the withdrawls set in. It is a barrier island off the coast of North Carolina that is only assessable by boat with a small village on the southern end leaving the northern portion uninhabited. Ocracoke was ranked America's #1 beach on Dr. Beach's yearly top ten. The village seems primarily survive from tourist, which reminded me of St. Augustine... making it even harder to leave on Sunday. It was so nice to be on the beach, feel the sun on my skin, and look out onto the water. I can't explain it, but it just feels so right when I'm on the beach. The trip made me realize that when looking for where to go after leaving NC in the spring, I need to focus my nrg on the coast. In being away from the beach and making it work elsewhere, I forget the simple nurturing that I find when being near the ocean.

The ocean is a powerful thing and every time I am near it, there is a humbling, contentment that washes over me and I know that everything will be ok. It is not that the ocean makes things ok in my life, it simply fills me up and in doing so, I am more able to endure life's little surprises and move more fluidly through turbulent times.

Living away from the coast, I become conditioned to what in essence is moving against the grain. Exerting endless amounts of energy to make things happen or to create what I think will make me happy, for the meantime, when all I need to to do is go to the beach for an afternoon.

Reflective times like these make me wonder why I have kept myself away from that which brings to much enjoyment and feels like an essential part of my life. Even more so, it makes me question why I am not looking to incorporate it into my future plans. I keep telling myself that I can be happy if I don't live near the beach, while all the time thinking I will return to it eventually, knowing it is where I belong... it is place I am the happiest.

Why then does it feel so far out of reach?

Another year has come and gone and I am one year older. Although I am still uneasy with the thought of growing old, my birthday was very pleasant. Unlike the majority of the population, the thought of growing old is frightening. Death I do not blink an eye at and often welcome, but the thought of growing old is one I do not think I will ever accept.

After years of dreading and ignoring my birthday, I welcomed this one with a big hug. Excitedly, I started the day, like a small child entrusted with a secret that only a few or perceptive people knew. It was not a secret, but it was one the little things, many would not acknowledge.

The day was pleasant, full of birthday wishes, cake, and a few thoughtful gifts. Although the day did not end as I may have hoped for, it was pleasant and fulfilling. To top it all off, I'm joining a few others this weekend on Ocracoke Island for a camping trip. It id the perfect way to end my birthday celebrations.

Waiting

She sits and waits... she has become a lady in waiting. Physically still, it goes unnoticed to others while internally, her mind races. She has been waiting for so long; sometimes she forgets what she's waiting for. Her thoughts lead her away, backward to the past and projected into the future. All the while the present has turned into the past and she missed it, like so many things in life, like her childhood. A time inaccessible as though it never happened, thrown into taking care of herself at a young age. Yes, it is a sad story, but pity is not what she seeks; it is understanding... and so she waits.

Shot of the day

Shot of the Day

Original image courtesy of Kolt Johnson

Going to Kentucky.....

What a motley crew
Me, Matthew [the groom], Ari [ the bride], Kat, Molly, Brian, and Reanna infront.

With mid August came a road trip to Kentucky. A few of the Geology folk loaded into a sedan and headed northwest through the mountains and into the "Bluegrass State." Unfortunately, no bluegrass was heard, but we did hop over the Ohio River and visit the Cincinnati Zoo, enjoy a relaxing evening in downtown Covington, attend a baseball game, [my first!], witness a beautiful wedding in the cathedral basilica, and partake of the celebration of Ari and Matthew's union [with the aid of an open liquor, beer, and wine bar]. Then, we were back on the road, Greenville bound. Leaving too soon.... but it always seem that way when returning to Greenville.

cute outfit ~= good attitude

cute outfit + compliment = good attitude



Why are so many of my perceptions and feelings based on others?

affable

easy and pleasant to approach and speak to; cordial. diffusing warmth and friendliness; gentle and gracious

... something not associated with me.

we see the world
thru our own 2 eyes
shaped and shifted
by lies, lies, lies

a farce of memories
lost in the pages
of a worn covered book
tossed away

Everybody has a story.... I miss hearing those stories. It's funny to think that years ago, I was sick of hearing people's stories. In the town I grew up in, people are always telling you their stories to the point where you come to not want to hear them anymore. But it's not like that everywhere. People don't seem to want to share their stories here.

An odd thing though is that a few books from past have been made into films. Recently, I saw that the book Into The Wild, written by Jon Krakaur, is the story of the life and death of Christopher McCandless, has been made into a film written and directed by Sean Penn. I remember really enjoying the book. It was a good story but was also very well written. The author did not just lay out the story chronologically, but relayed it as though you were uncovering the young man's journey, somewhat like a detective, trying to figure out what happened to Christopher McCandless. I look forward to seeing how it is depicted on the screen and listening to the story again.

Life's little showers

As she opened the window, to listen to the falling rain drops, she could smell the earth. It was as though the rain brought the earth to life, awakening it from a hibernatious drought. The grass looked greener; the leaves sparkled as the sun reflected off the water droplets and there was a silence, except for the falling rain. In moments like this, it feels like time stops. Yet, she knows, with each raindrop that falls, so does a second pass. It is within these moments, she wishes to stay, to breath in the heavy air and feel alive.

She's always loved watching storms. She reflects on a memory, one of her fondest, of enjoying a solitary afternoon on the beach, listening to the waves crashing on the shore. Then, as the dark clouds down the beach started moving closer, and the tourist ran for safety, she smelt the rain in the air, felt the temperature drop and heard the waves pick up. She watched the summer shower pass down the beach, gently moistening the warm sand crystals, and then it was gone. Like a wave on the beach, it had come and gone with little impact.

With the beach deserted she noticed there was one other person who had not ran for safety with the tourists and others. As he came into closer view, she realized she new him. It was Marc Sweet, the brother of a grade school friend. She had spent every weekend and some holidays with his family for the better part of 6th through 8th grade, although she had not seen any of them in a few years now. Marc was one of her friend Ruby's older brothers. There was also Lee; Lee was the oldest. She had had a tremendous crush on Marc for years, but everyone did. The whole family was very attractive. When she was younger, she often wondered if that was how it always was. Good-looking people get together and have good-looking kids.... it makes sense, using kid logic. If you were good-looking, you would be attracted to someone who was also good-looking and then your kids would automatically be attractive as well.

After the general salutations, Marc says, "Oh, can you believe Ruby's getting married?" A little surprised she said no, she hadn't heard. Not that she should be surprised. Ruby and Ralph had been together for years and everyone knew they would eventually get married, yet it some how did surprise her. "Wow," she said, "I didn't know." "Yeah," Marc replied, "it's weird that she's getting married before me, with Lee married." Then there was a silence as she took it in. It was the first one of her friends to get married, although she didn't really considered them friends anymore. She hadn't heard from Ruby in years. Still, it was a defining moment for her somehow.

While she was still taking it all in, Matthew wondered back to his truck, packed up his board and drove off. She thought how attractive he still was and remembered the childhood crush, yet those memories seemed so distant. She felt like the storm was in a way, introducing her to a new part of her life. Though she didn't know it at the time, she was entering the a part of life where, friends go their separate ways, get married, have kids, start careers, though not in that particular order.

As she sat at the window, looking out, she thought about how distant that memory now seems and how many summer showers she's watched come and go. Though she enjoys the storm and life it brings, she is still grappling with the friends she's lost along the way. As the sadness settles in, she realizes the rain has stopped and the clouds have moved on. She feels the sun's rays intensify and hears the birds begin to sing; she tries to relinquish the sadness and focus on the positive. She thinks of the many storms to come and friends she hopes to meet.

She thinks a lot about the past. Too much, she thinks, of people who have come and gone. Why do people have to go? Go, go, go is all people ever do. So much time has passed. She knows because her hair is long. It is long enough to cover her chest. The ends are wavy and when she sees them, it reminds her of the ocean and she smiles.

As the wind gently blows her hair off her shoulders behind her; it laps against her back and she can smell the moisture in the air. These are the days she loves. The air is heavy, weighing down, like a light blanket and comforting as such. The temperature is hot, but the rain brings a cool intermittent breeze. She falls asleep listening to the rain knowing when she wakes, the rain will be gone, like those she once held close.

Finally

After a frustrating struggle, last week there was a breakthrough with work and I am happy to announce I have finally found the backbone for the paper I've been bumbling through. Now I just need to finish writing it. While being unable to make headway on the paper. I've been complementing the infinite stack of scientific papers with some fictional works so as to igniting my appreciation for writing and word usage. In addition to doing so, I am currently trying to write a little every couple days, the first of which I posted here and will continue to post them as they come.

Anger filled her body, running swiftly through her veins, the residue of a bad dream. It seemed too real and the anger was all too familiar. She rose from a long sleep, yet exhausted from the dream, the way emotions are tiring. Turning on her pmp she steps into the shower. As the water temp is adjusted she hears it, one of his songs. Just a song to anyone else, but it is distinctly his in her mind. As thoughts of him weight on her heart she wonders why she hasn't deleted it, that song and every other thing that reminds her of him. How can she live her life being reminded of him, but she can't just delete everything that is associated with him. It would be a different life.

As the song changes, she pulls herself back to the task at hand: a shower. Let's not start the day sorrowful, she tells herself. Even the shower reminds her of him. The smoothness of his skin and his scent next to her bare body. It felt so comforting and safe to be in his arms, she remembers. How can he have hurt her... and now be with the last person she was close with. Hadn't he ruined her life enough?

There was nothing she could about it now. What was done is done. She focuses on her morning chores of watering the plants, caring for the dog, and making coffee. As she finishes up she notes the time and heads out to make her 10 o'clock appointment. As she listens to her bicycle tires on the pavement diligently and smoothly thrusting her forward in time and space, she wonders when the memories will fade. It's been two years, when will her life be her own again and not haunted by the past?

Peaks and Valley's

Even within the valley, there's a sh*t ton of hills.........

It still amazes me how I can wake up happy, be in tears by midday, and then smiling again by evening... all emotions centered around the project. The Project. It has become the focus of my life as well as the source aggravation and multiple meltdowns. Knowing the graduate school was going to be filled with feelings of floundering and frustration, I braced for what was to come; however, since arriving to NC and enduring this experience, my life has changed in more ways than I would have imagined. Like a person who finds they have cancer and dies within the week, relationships once strong quickly withered and now only exist in memories. A few new connections have been made, though shallow in comparison to the depth of those that have been lost.

However, reflections are not the point of this post; it is, that being the point, why has happiness' role been so slim within this experience? The reason I am pondering on this question is not to cause more internal aggravation and conflict, but because the time is approaching in which decisions are gong to be made as to the location of experiences and focus of the next chapter in my life, i.e. where I live and what I am going to be doing, a job, and I do not want to make the same mistake. Yes many lessons have been learned through this experience and I now know I am stronger than I had thought, but I have also learned that I give up more easily than before, do not try as hard, have become more hesitant, and recover just as slowly if not slower from being hurt.

So what have I decided? I haven't. I've been pondering this topic for a at least the past 6 months, but within the previous few months, it's been dominating thought processes. I guess I feel like I need something to work towards, to keep momentum, to carry me through this last year and send me into the next. So far, it hasn't presented itself, but perhaps the effort has been from the wrong direction. All I know is that I want to get this f*cking project finished and move on, but move onto what?

That is the question of the day, week, and year............

Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
"My vacations ending I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great.
And I can't wait to see you again."

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies.
And also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in toe.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow
To trust, to hold, to care

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car
without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives
As soon he sees her hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after at the end of the ride.
Cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams over the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says two fifty five
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign.
That the one that she cares for who's out of his mind
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor
He says, "Love I’m sorry" and she says, "What for?"
"I’m yours and that’s it, whatever
I should not have been gone for so long
I'm yours and that's it, forever
Your mine and that's it, forever"

~The Avett Brothers

Beach Bound

Tuesday we headed over to the OBX to try, once again, to retrieve a data logger that is MIA. After unsuccessfully searching, we headed to Canadian Hole, an area on the Pamlico Sound that is a popular wind surfing spot, and relaxed in the sun for a few hours before heading back to G-ville.

Being that Karza can't take the sun, I have frequently pondered ways to give her shade while on the beach and MacGyvered a shade tent with a sarong, cooler, and a few shovels. I was quite proud and excited that it worked. Karza was pretty stoked too not to have to wait in the back of the truck, her usual beach spot.

... and to bring it full circle, MacGyver was produced in Canada.

Sunday project

This weekends project was finally building a table to create more countertop space in the kitchen area. When living in a small apartment, unused space is a sad site and I had wanted to make this corner nook area usable for both Karza and myself. So, with a free scrap of plywood and some old 2" x 4"s, I went o work. Cutting the pieces was surprisingly easy, but putting them together, that was another story. The 2" x 4"s were so hard that after drilling hole through the wood, the screw was still having trouble and if I stepped up a size w/ the drill bit, the hole would have been too big. So many frustrating hours later, I had a somewhat stationary table. I didn't even screw the plywood onto the frame... it still needs some help. However, as long as one doesn't sit or stand on it, the table is sound.


Having big plans for the new addition to the apartment, I was sad at how quickly the space was filled. However, it is nice to have more countertop space and some room to crop veggies or better yet, for projects.... like drying herbs. I clipped back some the herbs and found there to be a plethora. I think I will hang them next time, but for now it a pleasant site to have lying around. I would like to note the tomatoes in the dish are delicious and cultivated by hers truly. I have not had the greener one yet; it is a heirloom variety and recently added to potted veggies outside, but the smaller ones are from the patio tomatoe and are delish. They are not very big, but just the right size for a sandwich, although I would suggest eating them on their own too. I forgot how good a tomatoe can taste. I can't wait to someday have a garden, in the ground, and grow lots of edible goodness year round.

Windy, but warm

Last weekend a few of the Geo girls and myself headed out to the OBX to try, unsuccessfully, to recover a logger that has gone M.I.A. As usual, the day turned out to have perfect weather, a little breezier than I would have preferred, but I've come accustomed to not actually getting in the ocean when I go to the beach up here, since it's usually too cold, i.e. 70 degrees or below.

However, the day was very pleasant and we even had enough time to make it down to the 2007 Nation's #1 beach, according to Dr.Beach, himself.

From left to right: Ari, Kat, me, Reanna, wth Karza infront

Out of all of us, Karza gets the poser award.

Plantings

The warm weather makes getting dirty and sweating irresistible, two things I have loved as long as I can remember and with nurseries overflowing with herbs, veggies, and perennials, I couldn't handle it anymore.... I have to add some to my backyard. With my neighbors having moved, after finishing nursing school, I was sad but happy entertaining the thought of having plants freely growing were I can tend and gaze at them outside my door. I had attempted planting a few echinacea, one of my favorite perennials, but Sampson, the K-9 resident slowly put an end that with his accurate urinary aiming capabilities. However, once I decided to make a plant bed in the backyard, I had the hardest time deciding what to put in it and how to go about it. Slowly over a few weeks, I played with dimensions and what plants to put where, never really deciding one way or the other.

Finally, I woke up Sunday morning, my first day off in weeks, and decided to do it. If it was a successful venture or it flopped, either way, I tried. After wandering around Lowe's hardware store I finally decided on the size: 6' long x 2' wide. I bought three 4" x 4" x 6' pieces, cut one piece into three 2' long pieces, and borrowed a shovel to break up the earth. The day was overcast and rain from the tropical storm that had wet the earth and was sprinkling here and there. It was the perfect day to make a bed.

I quickly got to work, before I could talk myself out of it, something I seem to easily be able to do and almost had accomplished while at the hardware store, and in about 2 hours I had broken up the earth, arranged, and planted to plants. I stepped back and admired my hard work, gleaming with pride. I couldn't walk away from my new accomplishment and was eager with anticipation to watch the plants grow and flourish, wishing I had done it when I first moved in.... thinking of how large the plants would be now.

However, I will only have the next year, or at least through spring semester, to watch the plants grow and they have been pleasant friend keeping Karza and I company while we enjoy the summer sunsets.



The bed consists of, from left to right back: lavendar, primadona echinacea, hyacinth bean, snow white echinacea, rosemary; from left to right front: creeping rasberry, garlic chives, strawberry, chives, and a creeping groundcover I can't remember the name of.

Happiness is the longing for repetition.

~ Milan Kundera

Over the past month I have been doing something I do not normally do... spreading myself thin, and handling it rather well. Normally, I am very hesitant to take on too much for the fear of not being able to follow through. However, I am finding joy in being able to manage the tasks and above all else, it keeps me busy and wanting to accomplish the various tasks. Sure there are hundreds of things I would rather be doing, but when I have a minute to reflect on the current moment, I am pleased with what I am doing. Though this sounds like something not that fantastic, it is for me. My time here in North Carolina has been begrudgingly arduous both personally and otherwise. Though I have often tried to create a schedule for myself, I never hold to them, but lately things have working along those lines and my planner has become a close companion. What is it about the familiar that is so comforting?

Unknown future

I've been thinking of my hometown a lot recently. I often ponder living there again, but wonder if it's just familiarity that I seek. When I visit, it is the wierdest feeling to walk down a street or enter a shop that is so familiar, yet I am a stranger.... a visitor. Even though I do not feel like a different person, than the one that left 8 years ago, the life I live now is much different than the life I had there. It would be interesting to give it a try, but there is so much saddness lingering there.

I wonder if I am seeking something from a memory that may not exist anymore.

The day has come and gone; slowly it seemed to pass, yet within the blink of an eye it's over....

open

Interactions and activities were cared for consciously, retarding time. I felt somewhat like a child, wide open and vulnerable taking great care in the simple actions of the passing moment. It was blissful and carefree, fulfilling.

New Music

I've been listening to the new Bright Eyes album, Casadaga, continuously. The video for Four Winds, one of the songs on the album and the EP put out before the album, is below.

The album as a whole is good, including a variety of sounds yet cohesive enough to flow from song to song. I am fond of the lyrics in the last song on the album, Lime Tree ....

The window closes, shocks roll over in a tidal wave
And all the color drains out of the frame
So pleased with a daydream that now living is no good
I took off my shoes and walked into the woods
I felt lost and found with every step I took

Sun brings smiles

The sun is out and the air is humid.... a bit chillier than I prefer (80 degrees F), but I am going to enjoy it. I feel free today. Why? That I am not sure, but I feel as though a release has occurred and although I have many tasks to accomplish before leaving town for a week, I am surprisingly not stressed.

I just hope the weather holds out for next week and is warm enough to enjoy the ocean water.... field work on the OBX is torturous stuff.....

Roanoke Rapids

In part of completing the coursework requirements for the current degree I am pursuing, The faculty decided I had to sit in on a field methods class. The class was not difficult, although I did not understand everything. The last assignment for the course is a big mapping project that takes place in Hot Springs, NC, but the weekend on which the field excursion occurred, I could not attend. So I arranged to do something closer and accomplishable within a day, at least the field component. However, since I did/do not know how to map geology, I coerced a few fellow grad students to accompany me.

The three of us + Karza headed up to a canal east of a damned river to look at outcrops. For those non-geologic folk reading, an outcrop is an exposure of rock or mineral deposit that can be seen on surface, i.e. that is not covered by soil or water.

Can anyone say outcrop?

All said and done, we had a good time blazing overgrown trails and looking at rocks, although I was somewhat preoccupied looking trying to i.d. the plants.

We always have fun in the field!
From left to right: Kat, Ari, Karza, and me

The day is overcast and water laden cooler air moves freely running a chill up my neck. There is a 30 percent chance of rain and the temperature outside is currently 65 degrees with an expected high of 72, a drastic change from the warm and welcomed 90 degree sunny weather of yesterday. Surprisingly, I was looking forward to today... the cooler temperature and clouds swollen with precipitation are an unalluring, yet motivating reason to stay inside and write, something I have found somewhat difficult the past few days.

Days like these make me want to curl up with a book and snuggle into a soft blanket or work on projects, anxiously awaiting attention, having been cast aside physically, though mentally still being developed and perfected. Memories of the mountains is where my mind goes on days like these, of my last adventure that of a trip to Yosemite. Hiking through changing topography with a slight chill in the passing air, just enough to offset the little perspiration accumulated from not being accustomed to the terrain. The clean, freezing-cold freshwater flowing down the mountain was a refreshing surprise as we made it to the top of a waterfall. We were only able to spend one night, but it was one of the best camping excursions I have been on yet.

So, I return to reality and the surmounting task laid before me. It is time to begin chipping away before the task at hand becomes too large. It's 9 a.m., time to start the work day.

... and so my thoughts wander back to memories....

Sometimes I wonder if the ideals and preferred life I am working towards is simply non-existent or unrealistic. For instance, I have fond memories of my home town, a small Atlantic coast laid back beach town. So fond, I yearn for the community and positive attitude that I associate with it, where things are slow moving, but people take the time to chat, have conversations with strangers, and the weather influences more than the decision to take an umbrella into work.

I cannot help but think that perhaps my fondness has become skewed and no such thing exists. When I am able to make it back to my home town, I can see it... hidden in the small locally owned and run businesses, dwarfed by large corporate chains. Although I could go off on a rant about development of small towns causing the community and culture to go extinct, that is not the purpose of this post.

It is not as though I am suggesting to prohibit growth and change in society, but more so I cam concerned that what I am working towards does not exist. Why worry about it, you may be saying... well, because soon my time here will be done and I am considering where I would like to move onto and in evaluating the positive and negative attributes of the few places I have spent a reasonable amount of time... I return to the fond thoughts of my home town. However, it is no longer what it was and has evolved.

Evolved....

Over the years I too have evolved and life has shaped not only my experiences but my memories. I have outgrown my home town and feel lost, searching for a new place to call home. As I type this a common phrase, reminding me that focusing on the present is often more beneficial than reflecting on the past or worrying about the future...

Wherever you go, there you are.

Successful Sunday

This spring has brought warmer weather, meaning sandals are an afternoon possibility, only a light fleece is required in the morning hours, and an hour of mid-day sunbathing can occur on breezeless days. With the excitement of warmth coming, I have invested in the pleasant company of those on the greener side, i.e. a few herbs (chocolate mint, varigated Thai sage, and lemon ?), a patio tomato, and some leafy lettuce.

Yesterday afternoon I finally planted three confederate jasmine plants I bought last fall and have neglectfully left sitting their 1 gallon pots for far too long. Weaving the vines through the fence, it made me wonder how much they will grow before I leave and if the next renter will hack them down.

Warmth and motivation

This morning I was able to raise my sleepy body from bed at a decent hour and successfully meet up w/ a friend to play racquetball. Although the previous night I stayed up later than intended, partially due to the good company and being able to sit outside after the sun had set without a jacket, I was pleasantly able to make it to the gym only slightly later than our 7:30 a.m. time to meet.

Although I was not overly energized, the early morning physical activity was pleasant and made the remaining day even more so. Being that the weather has been warmer recently, also aids in me pleasant mood. When others are moaning in any available spot of shade possible about the miserable heat, my spirits lift... not because of their discomfort, but for the heat is what motivates me to be active and enjoy the outdoors. Conversely, during the colder times, which last far too long here in North Carolina, I am the one grumbling about the awful weather while others glare with looks of insanity.

By the end of the summer my goal is to have a kick @ss Chaco's tan.

bodacious

Popularized in the comic strip Snuffy Smith, bodacious is probably a blend of the words bold and audacious, whose combined senses are evident in the following description of Sevier County, Tennessee, as "the most bodacious display of tourism this side of Anaheim" (Los Angeles Times). A more traditional meaning is "remarkable, prodigious": "a bodacious amount of smoke" (Springfield MA Morning Union); "the most bodacious tale of hidden treasure" (Lawrence E. Will). Bodacious can also be an adverbial intensifier: "She's so bowdacious unreasonable when she's raised [irritated]" (William T. Thompson). African-American speech in New York City retains this Southernism as bardacious. Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary cites the form boldacious, which is the likely source for bodacious.

Painting by Gil Marosi

Mineral Sale

Annie, Amanda, and me from left to right in the back and Kat is in front.

Saturday, was the first Greenville, NC Pirate Festival and the geology club rented a space to sell their rocks and mineral, which is our fundraiser normally held on campus twice a year. It was a lot of work, but we did well and everyone seemed to have a good time.

Hilariousness

John Cleese Letter to America
(Notice of Revocation of Independence)

Variant of 'Notice of Revocation of Independence' purportedly authored by John Cleese (Dec. 2004)


To the citizens of the United States of America, in the light of your failure to elect a competent President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories. Except Utah, which she does not fancy. Your new prime minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up revocation in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up aluminium. Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour', skipping the letter 'U' is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters. You will end your love affair with the letter 'Z' (pronounced 'zed' not 'zee') and the suffix ize will be replaced by the suffix ise. You will learn that the suffix 'burgh' is pronounced 'burra' e.g. Edinburgh. You are welcome to respell Pittsburgh as 'Pittsberg' if you can't cope with correct pronunciation.

Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up vocabulary. Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up interspersed. There will be no more 'bleeps' in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary then you won't have to use bad language as often.

2. There is no such thing as "US English". We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of -ize.

3. You should learn to distinguish the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to cockney,upper-class twit or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier). You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents - Scottish dramas such as Taggart will no longer be broadcast with subtitles. While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is Devon. If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become shires e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire.

4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters. British sit-coms such as Men Behaving Badly or Red Dwarf will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American football. There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American football is not a very good game. The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays American football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US Rugby sevens side by 2005. You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the 'World Series' for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders,your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls' game called rounders, which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.

7. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 2nd will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called Indecisive Day.

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean. All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time,you will go metric with immediate effect and conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer which should be served warm and flat. Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with customers.

11. As a sign of penance 5 grams of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.

12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all, it is lager. From November 1st only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer,and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. The substances formerly known as American Beer will henceforth be referred to as Near-Frozen Knat's Urine,with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as Weak Near-Frozen Knat's Urine. This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in Pilsen,Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

13. From November 10th the UK will harmonise petrol (or Gasoline, as you will be permitted to keep calling it until April 1st 2005) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the Former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $6/US gallon- get used to it).

14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

15. Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

16. Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).

Thank you for your co-operation and have a great day.

John Cleese

While reading a friends blog, I was reminded of this 1993 Porno for Pyros song...

It's sad to know that even though over a decade has passed, humans are still in the same state. How can numerous people individually progress, but the population as a whole remains static? Is there hope for the human race? Sometimes I think we deserve the outcome.... it is our actions that create them.

Sick in Savannah

This is the tale of one students excursion to a coveted vacation spot....


At the end of May, a group of geology grad students headed south to Savannah, Georgia for the Southeastern Geological Society of America (SEGSA) conference. Obligatorily, we created posters and prepared to present our work, our research, what we have been living and breathing for over a year now. Nervous for fear of ridicule and uncertain of events to unfold, we laboriously worked on our posters.

Finishing ahead of schedule, one student makes the last revisions and prepares to print the final version. However, at this same time, the printer has decided it does not want to print the poster correctly. Distraught and aggravated, she stays up until 3:30 a.m., with only a pixelated version of her crisp detailed poster. In a last effort, she send the file off to the mediacenter on campus, hoping their printer will be able to print it correctly.

Early the next morning, a day before they are to leave for Savannah, she wakes feeling horrible, only to progressively worsen during the day. With a fever growing, she retrieves the printed poster from the mediacenter in a delusional state. Somehow, the mediacenter was able to fix the issue and the poster looks crisp, clear, and ready to present. However, her feverish state is making her feel nauseous and riding in a van packed full of people for 6 hours does sound appealing, let alone presenting a poster. Not sure what to do, seeks out one of her advisers.

While he is trying to dismiss her, she informs him she is not well and may not be able to attend the conference. Trying to be responsible, she asks what she should do. Should she give her poster to one of the students ans ask them to hang it up for her? Should she find someone to stand by it and tell people that the presenter is ill? He tells her that he or her other advisor will present it, if she cannot make it and with that she leaves the poster in the hands of one of the other students and heads home to rest, hoping she will feel better after some additional sleep.

Later, much later that day, she wakes in a cold sweat, feeling somewhat better, having finally broken the fever. A kind friend brings her food and although she is not hungry, she eats and within a few hours is feeling much better. Even though she knows she is not well, she arranges to make the journey and attempt to follow through what she has started.

After a long night's sleep she loads herself into the van and with the other students, she heads south on I-95 to Savannah. Ah, Savannah... she has wanted to visit this place for many years now and has made multiple attempts and planned trips, all of which did not come to fruition. Now, she is finally going, but will she be able to enjoy it?

Surprisingly, the drive down was not bad. A fellow student and kind friend, comfortingly sat next to her on the drive, helping to create a buffer so as to keep the sickness from infecting others. Her constant coughing did nor seem to upset anyone but she was fading as they approached the hotel in Savannah. After checking in, the students headed out to explore the town, but she decided to stay in and rest. Her poster session was at 8 a.m. the next morning and she wanted to feel as good as possible. She did manage to make it out to grab dinner. The hotel was located next to River Street with a beautiful view. Walking to a restaurant, the air was chilly and slightly weighted with the warmth of humidity. The old facades and tourist feel of the town reminded her of her home town and how much she missed it. There were people out strolling along the uneven brick streets and live music drifting from the restaurants and bars.

Accompanied by a few other students, she resigned to the hotel room to rest before her poster presentation in the morning. She endured the deep dreamless sleep of sickness only interrupted by a inconsiderate drunken phone call. Regardless, she rose early and after yet another trip to a nearby drug store, she made it to the poster session on time. Although she couldn't really talk, because the cold had settled in her throat, she tried to interact and communicate with people perusing her poster. When her session was finished, she packed up her poster and rested the remainder of the afternoon.

The second day of the conference, she was not feeling much better, but the fever had seemed to cease. Trying to make the best of it, she headed out into the town to see how much she could explore. However, little effort exhausted her, so she spent most of the time, sitting by the river enjoying the warmth of the sun, wishing she was in better health and capable of exploring the town as she had wanted to for long. However, by the afternoon, the days effort caught up with her and she was ready to head home.

As they came, the students loaded into the department vans and headed north on I-95. Missing her dog and her comfortable bed, she wondered if she would make it back to Savannah another time. A time when she could enjoy the town and its southern beauty.

Another day....

Good Friday. What's so good about it? Besides the fact that campus is closed, yet I am still expected to work. Granted, I enjoy working when campus is empty; however, it frustrates me that I am expected to be here, yet no food is available for purchase because all the vendors are closed.

Although it sounds like I'm trying to bitch, which ok maybe I was, but there is something about today that sets it apart form the monotony of other days. Is it the exemplary dichotomy that the day had already displayed, the lightness of the cold air, or the fact that it is Friday? Unfortunately, for grad students, Friday does not really mean anything. It is just another day, although we like to think there is something special about it. Perhaps it is the end of the semester vibe, that is resonating from anxious students, scrambling to complete projects and reports. Not being enrolled in any classes, thankfully deceases my stress level, but it can still be felt emanating from others.

It feels like things are coming to a head, a climax of sorts. Up until now, I have been worried, scared, and hesitant, but today I feel liberated and free. Why? I have no idea, but I have tried to stop asking such questions and simply revel in the feelings, both negative and positive... although the positive are so much easier to accept without question.

In googling 'freedom', the image below was the first to appear. Simplistic, with vibrant colours, I can easily identify with the artist's representation of freedom. I see a child-likeness in his simplistic forms and colour choice. Perhaps that is what makes it so easily identifiable.

~ Freedom by Kent

Hopefully, this euphoria will remain throughout the weekend....

Coastal field trip winter 2006

Last winter, our coastal processes field trip headed over the the OBX and met up with a class from VIMS to discuss various processes and see erosional hot spots. Here are a few pix taken from during those very cold days on the windy beaches, courtesy of Mr. Hornsberger.....

ECU Geo girls posing for the camera.

Cape Hatteras Lighthouse shining in all its glory.

Sunset on the marsh facing west into Pamlico Sound.

The day breaks and everything is new

I forget how fulfilling it is to make early and watch the sun rise behind the clouds, slowly igniting the earth. There is a lightness with rising early, as though you are ahead or capable of moving with the day... like rising mid morning or later you are constantly trying to catch up having the weight of the day resting on your shoulders.

St. Patty's Day

Saturday morning started off well, with a dinner invitation from Sophie. We got started rather late, but around 8 p.m. I around with a hefty salad, while Katie was finishing up a wonderful Irish dish, and Soph showed me how to easily prepare homemade mac & cheese. After a wonderful dinner,we headed downtown to meet up with some of the bio. grads.



We all hung out there for awhile and then headed over to the Euro pub and local geology hang out. It was packed! I didn't even try to make it to bar and hung back in the roomier area near the front door.

All in all it was a fun time with new faces and good conversation. Ending up back home, much later than originally planned, I was extremely pleased and content.

yesterday, today, tomorrow

questions asked
answers given
nothing's changed
life's a dream

conflicting perceptions
askewed views
nothings clear
to those who choose

expecting more
receiving less
connections lost
self remains

stronger and wiser
life goes on
the moon sets
and the sun will rise

After not being to focus the past few days and having the glimpse of warmer weather, we headed over the beach. Unknowingly the beach was in the process of being renourished, a nicer way to say they pumping sand and critters from offshore onto the beach so that the $$ houses do not wash away.

However, the beach has the wonderful capability of clearing the mind and settling the nerves. Returning to good 'ole G-vegas, I felt much better. It amazes me how something so simple can make such a difference. Although I do not understand why, I am simply happy that I know it does.

Organic

Dismal and dull.
Larger than life.
We strive to move forward,
without looking behind.

The sorrow and pain,
lingers and flows,
through one's veins.
Helpless, no?

The energy to live...
to fight for one's life,
is an unconscious action
finite in time.

Like each breath in,
an exhale follows.
Until one day
the air is gone.

Punctuated Point

uneasy emotions...
riding the swells,
stationary
rising and falling.

sadness
for what might of been
or what was?
hard to distinguish
between the two.

so much has occurred
in little time passed.
the same
I feel...
yet hollowed
by experience.

hopeful,
yet empty...
with little to give,
and no one
to receive.

like a child,
dancing in the street.
not for money
but for the audience.

it's become harder...
to continue to dance
when no one is listening.

what's the point?

The most wonderfully unused doghouse in the world!

After receiving a generic warning for not having 'proper shelter' for Karza and being threatened of having her taken away, two of the most wonderful people helped me build a doghouse to appease the @ssh*le. It's a grand doghouse, the most fabulously wonderful one in the world! The sad thing is that Karza won't go in it unless I make her. But it sure does look pretty and if I ever get locked out, I'll have somewhere to sleep.

Moving music

For those whose feet touch the earth and those whose spirit soars above the clouds............

I see you sleeping
Only in my mind
And I have been away
And on this season
I waste so much time
Thinking of when I
Would hold you gently
And I'd look into your eyes
And I would be the one
To calm your shaking
When you would cry

I miss you in my life
I miss you in my life
I miss you in my life
So miss you in my life

You had your answers
Within every smile
And time and time again
I'd lose my chances
To reconcile

And even if I had my time over
It would take awhile
To reveal all my best intentions
That I let slip by

I miss you in my life
So miss you in my life
I miss you in my life
Now I miss you in my life

~ Xavier Rudd

.... you are not forgotten.

Even though it was the middle of February and the beach was cold, I couldn't resist spending a few moments on the heavily modified beach that used to be F/A during a friends wedding. There was a strong wind, but the sun's rays helped me keep warm. The ocean was not very rough and the small swells were rolling in nicely.

A new day's promise

How long one's path may seem
as seasons change
and leaves turn green.

When darkness falls
and the crescent grins
one's unmet goals, simmer
beneath the skin.

Rest and dreams...
await
desired by one
to start a new day.

"I want to be 100 percent here.... When I am writing, I am inside the sound and meaning of the words, playing with them, curving them around eachother. When I am eating, I luxuriate in the taste and texture of everybite. When I am alone, I listen to and communicate with the silence within me and the noises and messages of the world around me. And when I am with people, I am really with them..."

~ Rita Golden Gelman
Tales of a Female Nomad