jordan.

2011

2012-01-01T23:07:00.001-05:00

Saw the bean 5 times.

A 4.0 and a 3.9
Spent a week wearing the same clothing and eating nothing but pretzels that had been expired for two months.
I found out what happens when the library closes at 3 am.
Celebrated 2 years, 6 birthdays, and 3 Christmases with this guy.

Juggled two jobs, a full class load, my first grad school class, and I created a revolutionary new way to cook potatoes. It's called The Jordan.
Officially began my life of crime as a feminist vigilante. Code names and all.
Ate my first tomato since 1996. I also ate a bug.
Became friends with a wonderful redhead.

Came to realize how rewarding it is to have (and defeat!) an arch nemesis.
Handed the most intimidating professor I've ever had an 11-page literature analysis of Kanye West's first album.
Noticed that an unseemly number of Facebook statuses were devoted to inquires about the safety of eating certain foods after the expiration date. Apparently expiration dates don't matter and anything in a refrigerator or cupboard is edible.
I got my first migraine during Hugh Jackman's Reel Steel and vomited in front of children.
Experienced my first (and only) hangover.
Built a family with these beautiful people.

I pay rent and consequently find myself wondering how much having a place to live is worth.
Spent three hours with a stranger from Arizona doing nothing but listing things we knew about Russia.
Spent two months in a haunted building.

I was given 27 plastic rosaries and lots of fun-size packets of Skittles during this time.

Said, "It's hot as balls," more times than I'm proud of.
Saw Idina Menzel and the Cleveland Orchestra. Magically got way better seats than I paid for.

Went to a strip club.
Graduated from RA to CA and AA. (not alcoholics anonymous)
Did a lot of searching and thinking about what it means to have integrity. And I think I am getting closer everyday.
Shoveled ice cream into my mouth with my bare hands. And won a freakin prize for it. I am not proud.
Saw every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever made.
Spent an entire weekend convinced that I had died and was a poltergeist in my own apartment.
Schooled some kids.
I laughed and laughed all the way home.
I learned how to love and what to do when you can't.
I said, "Goodbye" when I should have said, "Nice to see you again."

Hardcandy Christmas

2011-12-25T23:26:00.002-05:00

Today is Christmas.
It’s been a year and I have come to understand why suicide carries the stigma it does. People like me sweep it under the rug and don’t dare to say it aloud because it is easier.

After it happened, I cried and then never talked about it.

I tried to figure out what it meant and what it was.

-It was hearing my mother scream. This is something that doesn’t belong in real life, only movies. Hearing a person scream in utter terror and agony is impossible to describe and impossible to forget. Pain becomes tangible. It echoes. This sound is one I will hear forever.
-It was dialing 911, trying to articulate what I saw and having no words, only broken phrases and shallow breaths. “Killed herself,” I said. “Dead, I think she’s…”
-It was seeing and not believing. My mom, me, and a body we couldn't look at.
-It was a frail survivor. A person I spent the last 365 days treating like a corpse.
-It was an upheaval, a new house in February. A home I didn’t get to say goodbye to.
-It was hearing the strongest person I know cry in the shower.
-It was screaming profanities and shaking so badly I don’t know how I stayed standing.
-It is the inability to forgive.

So it is these screams, these painful moments and the tears that followed that I have carried in my pockets along with a holiday that’s scratched beyond recognition. They make it a little harder to smile and they made me a lot less pleasant to be around.

Reality: Sometimes people try to kill themselves. Sometimes they actually do. Either way, there are always people left behind, broken because they weren’t enough to live for.

It’s Christmas. It’s been a year. And that’s all I know for sure.

Love Letters

2011-09-16T11:25:00.000-04:00

Dear September,
You make me cold.

Dear Senior Year,
You make me smarter.

Dear Two Jobs,
you make me tired.

Dear Sarah,

You make me tough and buff.

Dear Mom,

You make me breathe and sometimes you make me drunk.

Dear Travis,
You seem much taller lately.

Dear Jordan,

I appreciate that you always take time to hydrate.

My Very Last Lutheran Night

2011-07-30T23:05:00.001-04:00

My Last night in Valpo.
My Last desk shift.
My Last Camp.
Hot Damn, it's even the last time I will ever wear this polo.

Día del Padre

2011-06-20T00:39:00.001-04:00

Happy Father’s day, Mom. You’ve been a great dad.

Because you taught me to find solace on the road.

2005: you put 1,220 miles between me and my problems that seemed so momentous at the time. This infected me with the wanderlust and forever changed me.

Because you always hand back the five when they give you too much change.

1999: Showcase Cinemas Huber Heights.

Because you’re really into boxing now.

2011: Proof that you’re as strong as I’ve always thought.

Because when I was in elementary school, you were the mom who made sure the kids who couldn’t afford glue sticks and markers had all the supplies they needed.

2000: We didn’t have that much money to spare but Michael and Brandon had even less.

Because when I was in 8th grade and wore fishnets and combat boots to school, you were proud of me for being my own person, even though the 11th graders called me a skank.

2004: You said the Ghostbuster T-shirt looked sharp with the boots.

Because you had the strength and education to save us from a situation that could have ruined our lives.

1996: We ran from his addiction.

I love you Mom/Dad. You're my best friend. [And I'm not just saying that because you buy me margaritas.]

Oh, and you too.

2011-06-18T01:45:00.000-04:00

Every night before bed I make a gratitude list and there are items that are permanently at the top. [My mom, my brother, grandma, Bob, Mr. Anderson] People come first. I'm so unbelievably gracious for the friends I have and the love, laughter and support they are responsible for.

Subsequently, my thankfulness extends to the opportunities that make me better.

I am grateful for:
the Lutheran university that currently employs me.
said university's close proximity to Chicago.
the colorful and brilliant individuals who populate aforementioned university.
the growth this experience is cultivating.
Guinness
my solar powered flashlight.

If your eyes are dancing with these words, I hope you don't have to delve too deep to find your gratitude. Try to keep it close and pull it out often. It is important and humbling to say thank you, even if you don't know who you're saying it too.

Centennial

2011-06-13T23:15:00.001-04:00

This is my 100th post! I can only hope that I get to live as many years, love as many people, and see as many sunrises.

Continuing at this rate means my bicentennial post won’t appear until 2014 (I’m obviously a prolific blogger). Because my blogging behavior can be considered sporadic and trivial I figured my 100th post should mean something, that it should celebrate the most important thing I’ve ever had to say.

I’m still sorting out what I want to say to this world I don’t understand, so it’s the thing I know to be true.

Don't Worry,

2011-06-02T23:13:00.002-04:00

I'm a professional rescuer and I know what to do.

If you're reading this, I'll probably save your life someday.

(Unless you're an infant, in which case I may accidentally break your neck while doing rescue breathing and I'm real sorry about that.)

Bedtime for Bedbugs.

2011-06-02T00:36:00.001-04:00

She goes home to a place where the walls don’t remember her. If they could talk they wouldn’t. They’ve got no stories to tell. Sipping water out of wine glasses in the wee hours of the morning to avoid the rising sun. She wants to read words. To breathe them, devour them, to chase them with a shot of who cares anymore. She wants her words to burn on the way down. Not bible thin pages but your Rosetta stone. To understand. The mingling fortune cookie wisdom and postmodern reconstruction gasp for breath in her globally warmed mind. Sometimes we talk about religion. Sometimes we’re soggy like newspaper caught in the rain.

Fulfillment

2011-05-26T21:36:00.001-04:00

At school I’m surrounded by people who share my beliefs, support my passions, and encourage me to continue growing. At home, I’m forced to defend those beliefs. It’s frustrating to not be understood, to have to explain myself, and to be around those whose point-of-view will never converge with mine.

However, the life I’m preparing myself for is one of advocacy, of being a voice for the voiceless. What could be better preparation than practice? And here, it seems, I’ve met my most worthy opponents. Sturdy brick walls who refuse to budge. These are the opinions I’ve always been guided by, the people I’ve aimed to please. If I can’t speak up to them, if I can’t bear to hear them argue that there are more important things to worry about than the rights of my students, then what am I doing?

When I decided to devote all my energy and my college experience to minority students and English learners, I knew that I was entering a battle. I was making myself a part of a system that doesn’t have room or time for these students. I was signing up to be a quasi warrior, armed with my unjaded ideals, my heart of hope, and my unfaltering determination.

I know some think I’m still childish and that my hopes are unrealistic, but I will always see students where you want me to see dollar signs and they come first. I am not naïve enough to believe that I can change the world, but I’m confident enough to believe that I will change my students. I will be their advocate, their voice when they need it, and most importantly their teacher. The knowledge I will give them will enable them to take on this unforgiving world with the confidence to speak and the knowledge to succeed.

W.E.W.W.A

2011-04-26T00:39:00.002-04:00

In case you are unfamiliar with this catchy acronym, it stands for Why-Easter-Weekend-Was-Awesome.

1. Friday, Friday, Friday I had dinner with my mom!! And I learned that I have a mountain, which probably means I have pet bears. Yay bears! Yay dinner with Mom!

I'm clearly known for my photography expertise.

2. Saturday my very dear England friend Lindsey visited!

3. Travis played Boggle with me in my car while we waited to see Hanna! (G.A.M....that stands for God-awful movie)

I won.

uh...HAHA.

2011-04-22T19:53:00.000-04:00

OOPS!

So stonner is spelled stoner but, I mean, both of them are not in the Microsoft Word dictionary and it's not like the stoners minded the extra 'n' and it's not like I get paid to spell things right, and I mean phonetically, um, their like both the same and geeze, ya know?

4/20

2011-04-20T23:42:00.000-04:00

In the last few minutes of this waning evening I think about how today takes a minute to chill and celebrate stonners everywhere while stonners everywhere take a minute to celebrate getting stonned. Since I'm a just-say-No kind of gal, I decided to celebrated today by really honning in a picking my favorite stonner flick.
...
....
.......
...........
So after much mulling, it turns out that I don't really like stonner movies.
But luckily for the sake of supporting a national holiday I was able to dig to the very far reaches of my brain to remember a movie that poked my funny bone and carved out a place in my heart for all the pot heads in the world.

AND THAT MOVIE IS...
~~Dude where's my Car~~
~~Pineapple Express~~
THE BIG LEBOWSKI

Aren't' these just beautiful men?

The Dude: Also, my rug was stolen.
Younger Cop: The rug was in the car?
The Dude: No. It was here.
Younger Cop: [eager] Oh, separate incidents.
Maude Lebowski: [on answering machine] Jeffrey, this is Maude Lebowski. I need to see you. I'm the one who took your rug.
Younger Cop: Well. I guess we can close the file on that one.

**I think we should honor the stonners of this country by adding the word "stonner" to the Microstoft Word dictionary so it doesn't have the negative connotation of an angry red line attached to it.

A gorgeous No.

2011-04-19T23:17:00.000-04:00

Today while slaving away (re: staring at) my incomplete portfolio, I decided to do something I never ever do. And that thing is turning on my TV. Because this happens so infrequently, I don't know the channels or what's where so it's a little overwhelming (but not as overwhelming as an incomplete portfolio). But my remote took me to TLC where I spent a solid 13 minutes watching women cry in wedding dresses that for some reason or another weren't good enough. It mostly involved the necklines. Necklines apparently will make or break a wedding.

This made me cringe, think, and formulate this list:

Things I will not do:

Spend more on a dress I only wear for one day than I do on a pair of jeans or sneakers.
Get confused about which is more important, a wedding or a marriage.
Yell at people who are only doing their job.
Believe that my wedding day will actually be the best day of my life.
Ever watch TLC again.

This isn't really a crossroads, they're just tring to trick you.

2011-04-18T10:08:00.000-04:00


This is my homework lives.

I can proof read it one more time. It wouldn’t take more than twenty painful minutes of agony and sheer loathing. I should just look at the words to make sure they are at least grammatically correct; I don’t have to pay attention to what it actually says.

Instead I’ve decided to have a love affair with T.S. Eliot. Who knew he was so cool? Not this girl. He and I are going to climb mountains and we will know the evenings, mornings, afternoons. We have measured out our lives with coffee spoons.

He, along with everything else in existence, is infinitely more interesting than my standards analysis blah blah blah.

"There will be time, there will be time
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of toast and tea."

This show

2011-03-09T22:14:00.000-05:00

is my comfort blanket.

and right now I'm reading:

Both are fantastic.

And even better when enjoyed simultaneously.

Egypt, I'm proud of you.

2011-02-11T22:08:00.000-05:00

You're journey has been incredible to witness.

Smells like home.

2011-02-11T21:26:00.000-05:00

I miss writing. I miss feeling like I'm good at writing. I miss feeling like I know how to write. Writing is not a talent. It is not the love child of inspiration. Writing is a skill to be honed. It is hard work. All the best writing comes from a labor of love. I miss having a reason to write, an audience.

Snowpacolypse

2011-02-07T23:56:00.000-05:00

I can't believe:

it happened.
it's over.
we survived.
classes weren't cancled.
I met a squirrel.
those days were some of the sunniest I have ever seen.

Dear Christmas.

2011-01-10T09:47:00.000-05:00

I'd like a re-do. I think it's the least you could do.

Walt Whitman Day

2010-12-20T23:46:00.000-05:00

Today was a Walt Whitman day.
I leaned and loafed
and smiled
and ate and
tried to forget about the semester that refuses to remove its claws.
I checked to see if grades were online about a thousand times.

When I imagined peacing out to this semester, I thought the break would be a lot cleaner.
But I'm still tense
and furrowed.

Tomorrow will be an Emily Dickinson day.
Meticulously, I will read books.
Wrestle with rhetoric.
(It's epistemic, have you heard?)

I'm still waiting for the fog to clear
and when it does--
I will read books
and smile at strangers
and bake cookies
and finally clean my room
and drink mojitos on the beach
and probably miss you terribly.

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same."

-Walt Whitman

4 am

2010-11-22T04:11:00.001-05:00

It's late. I'm sick.
(The expression sicker than a dog makes no sense to me. My dog has never been very sick.)
Anyway, there are exactly 11 factors that work in conjunction with each other to create this sad state I'm in.

My sickness: coughy, sneezy, sleepy, achey kind.
The syfy marathon I watched because I couldn't find the remote. (Leprachans, something about vampires, Wrong Turn 2, Joy Ride 2, The Grudge 3)
I've never seen the first ones of any of those movie, but no worries, I had no trouble understanding these B-listers.
This girl specifically is freaking me out.

5. Yep, TOTALLY FREAKIN OUT.

6. SLEEPY SLEEPY SLEEPY.

7. I realize this isn't cohesive.

8. But I'm probably going to be murdered by a fictional character.

9. Those movies were stupid.

10. So I've spent all day consuming stupid.

11. How smart does that make me?

I love

2010-11-16T00:34:00.001-05:00

that moment when I'm washing my face before bed and there's soap and water on my eyelids so I can't quite open them; but I tilt my head up to face the mirror, reach for my towel, and dry off my face. For that instant before I open my eyes, anything can happen. There could be an axe murderer right behind me that I won't notice until I see him in our reflection. The electricity could have gone off and I could open my eyes to complete darkness. Or I might just see a clean but drippy hair-shoved-back version of my face.
Either way, I love that I open my eyes not knowing.

Dangling Whimsical dripping off the stars

2010-11-08T21:41:00.000-05:00

Thailand or elsewhere?
Internship or no internship?
Making money or going broke?
Last week I “Lost money, chose life” (RE: skipped class)
But now I’m wondering where else the phrase is applicable.
Do I spend all the money I have and go to Thailand.
Or do I save those monies for the rent I’ll soon be paying?
Why does it feel so selfish to want to go volunteer for a few months?
Why is it so expensive to do said volunteering?

I want to run to this country and say “hello.”

Gratitude

2010-11-02T22:57:00.000-04:00

Today has been one long-winded complaint so I'm going to try to spend five minutes thinking about the things I'm grateful for.

1. Despite being on duty and having two nasty encounters with vomit, I had a really great halloween weekend. (Note evidentiary support below)

2. Despite being completely disengaged in my classes, I'm smart enough to save face...and my GPA, making up for not preparing.

3. Somehow, someway, I have the skills to help some special people through their challenges and I have no idea where they came form.

4. Despite being completely torn between two equally fascinating opportunities, I am so grateful to have options.

5. I realize that without these difficulties, I would not have discovered my strengths.

But is it too much to ask to discover my strength AND catch a nap at the same time??

Panda: Duty

2010-10-27T00:40:00.001-04:00

I am grateful for my job.

368 days

2010-10-24T23:43:00.002-04:00

The last 3 days were awesome because:

-I ignored copious amounts of homework to hang out with this guy:

-We subjected our bodies to profuse amounts of lateral forces on the best coasters Kings Island has to offer. 

-We bungee jumped.  (freakin’ terrifying)

-We made brownies.

-We watched movies.

-We enjoyed the fall and each other 

and for a moment, 

-We soaked up all of the love and happy that the “best days of our lives” have to offer. 

The teacher I'll be.

2010-10-12T23:49:00.000-04:00

Mr. Feeny is perhaps my favorite.

lol. jk about this one.

I'm ready:

2010-10-12T23:32:00.000-04:00

to teach.

to learn.

to run.

I'm armed with my color coordinated to-do lists

and a head full of study habits and determination.

Listen up. I don't need any help.

40 minutes ago

2010-10-06T12:19:00.000-04:00

I witnessed the most unbelievable act of strength.

And it gnawed on my heart with machete-sharp teeth.

Panda: says it is nice to see you

2010-10-05T23:52:00.000-04:00

Stand Up.

2010-10-05T00:06:00.000-04:00

Over the last week or so, these four ribbons have found their way into my possession.

One was handed to me as I walked in to see Angels in America.
The second was given to me at a vigil for the students we’ve lost to drugs and alcohol.
The third came to me by way of a lonely stranger.
I found the fourth one tucked into one of my text books.

Angels in America reacquainted me with the terror and tragedy of AIDS. In high school I was passionate and informed and then it was like I just…forgot. Like everyone forgot.

How cruel is that? Now I’m terrified, I’m furious, I’m sick to my stomach and I’m wondering what I can do. What we can do.

…

Today while working the desk some guys started shouting across the lobby.

“I got blackout drunk last night and apparently banged some chick I met a Ty’s house.”

“Dude, it’s always awesome when your friends have to tell you what you were doing last night.”

…

A friend of mine from freshman year dated her boyfriend for two years. Then she found out she had HPV. Now she regularly has to go to the OBGYN to get cancerous cells scraped off her uterus.

…

It’s estimated that one in 4 people have an STD. Does this mean that you refuse to have a relationship with someone who’s had multiple partners in the past?

Is the only safety celibacy?

What about the people who don’t have a choice?

I don't know what to do. Tell me and I'll do it. Give me a way to help. Give me solutions, advice, answers, reasons, justifications, consolations and I'll give my time, my dedication, my heart, and my hand to hold.

AIDS shakes the planet like it’s a snow globe. You’re either infected or affected.

It shouldn't can’t be ignored.

What would happen if:

2010-09-29T12:06:00.005-04:00

I changed my major?
I dropped out of school?
I brought my dog to live in my room?
I just decided to spend the next few days at home?
I lived in a tent for the whole summer?
I never wore pants again?
I decided NOT to be a teacher?
I taught kids?
I was never seen or heard from again?
I hugged a polar bear?
I stopped thinking about I?
I told you I loved you?

Impossible.

2010-09-19T20:58:00.001-04:00

Dilemma:  I have to read all three of these by Tuesday.  

Problem 1:  I have the reading comprehension of a math major. 

Problem 2:  My ability to stay awake is like that of a toddler on a 2 hour car ride. 

Weapon of Choice: Bent, scratched up, reading glasses and caffeine.  

Plan:  Read one book until I start zoning out or my eyes get gloopy and then BAM!! I switch! And like magic, I'm refreshed and able to read for hours more and before I know it, these books will just be faded notches in my bedpost. 

Wish me luck.

Can you die of sleepy?

2010-09-16T20:55:00.002-04:00

Life has been challenging lately.

(Something a good friend taught me last year: there is no such thing as a bad day, only a challenging one.)

And when my life is challenging, I turn into a huge complainer and adopt this terrible dementor attitude. I suck the happiness out of the atmosphere. I’m anti-sunshine. Ranting and raving and complaining. It’s how I cope.

However, my current challenges are sensitive. Meaning ranting, raving, and complaining are not allowed to be processes externally.

So I’m going to emphasize positives:

My three-hour desk shift today was awesome. I got to really thouroughly read about the teaching strategies I’ll be implementing with the kindergarteners Friday.

My mom is nice.

I got an 8 minute nap!

I’m surrounded by the most brilliant, supportive, accommodating, beautiful people on the planet.

At the end of every day, no matter how difficult it is to get through, I always get to go to bed.

Conundrum

2010-09-01T17:38:00.003-04:00

So literally just moments ago, I was in the elevator and a boy popped on.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"Do you like Starbucks?"

"Um, generally." (I need to work on my over-dependence on the utterance 'um.')

He then proceeds to produce this tasty looking fella out of thin air (an exaggeration, I assure you.)

"Do you want this?"

I note that the cup says Eric.

"Um, How do I know it's not poisoned?"

"You trust me."

"I do?"

Well, long story short I took it. But now, do I dare drink?

Whine Whine Whiiiiiine.

2010-09-01T17:19:00.000-04:00

Dear FedEx,

I needed that textbook YESTERDAY. So here I am, textbookless, about to fail a pop quiz all because you couldn't do one teeny tiny thing for me. You're just hoarding all this priceless knowledge so you can watch me be a failure and laugh in your little white van . Well Guess what FedEx, I am not going to take it anymore! No I'm finished with you and this emotional abuse. When you do finally bring me my textbook, which will have been rendered useless and outdated because I'll be a THOUSAND YEARS OLD BY THEN, I'm just going to chuck it back in your face.

I HOPE THE JAGGED CORNER POKES YOUR EYE!

Love,
Jordan
(not.)

I need a change.

2010-08-30T23:40:00.001-04:00

there

is

absolutely

no

inevitability

as

long

as

there

is

a

willingness

contemplate

what

is

happening.

I feel displaced. (things I'm sorry for: part one)

2010-08-26T23:05:00.001-04:00

Today I wandered around an empty greenhouse.
I decided to like my classes.
And this font.

*************************************************************

Once, when we were about 5, my cousin and I tricked Violet, our Jamaican nanny, into thinking we got kidnapped. We covered the bedroom in muddy footprints and climbed out the window. It turned into a big snafu and was just a generally unpleasant experience. Especially for Violet. She was a wreck and I was the one responsible for wreaking havoc on her undeserving nerves. Thinking of this makes me feel the kind of guilty that sticks to my bones and makes my stomach feel like a volcano. I still think of her and what I would say to her if I ever see her again. I think I would start with I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being a terror who considered no ones feelings but her own.

Fragments.

2010-08-25T00:17:00.001-04:00

Parts of me are:

-Still sleeping under bridges and on benches in Vencie.

-Basking in the sunlight on top of a mountain I didn't think I could climb by myself.

-Watching travelers on an endless night at an international airport.

-Always careful to keep my passport close at hand, but my camera closer.

-In shock that I just started my junior year of college.

-Amazed that I'll not only have real students this year, but also the resposibility of teaching them.

-Intimidated by the creeping closeness of the real world.

-Happy...so so happy.

(Venice)

My husband will wear a kilt.

2010-07-21T20:48:00.004-04:00

The train to Edinburgh was smooth. We sailed through Scotland’s rolling hills and grazing sheep effortlessly with the graying sky as our backdrop. Night one, we decided (Dennis, Lindsey, and me), was either for pub hopping or ghost hunting. We decided to compromise and go for both.

Edinburgh is known as one of the most haunted places on the planet. Its history is rich with centuries of death, torture and suffering. We decided to join a terror tour. Not one of the ones peppered with corny tour-guide jokes with cheap scares and silly stories. We decided to go on the tour that started long after the nighttime fog had settled around the gothic castle towering over the city and the pubs were starting to close.

I downed my gin like I’d been doing it for years and set off, certain that the terror the tour promised would be lost on this horror movie enthusiast.

We walked the streets, shuffled through the red light district and stopped on a staircase while we learned about some of the more gruesome history of Edinburgh’s past. The witch burnings.

Our guide asked me to stand up on the steps above the crowd. I took Lindsey with me. Said she wanted to use me as an example.

There were three things they looked for in a woman they wanted to see burn.

The first being red hair. (Really, red hair always gets me in trouble)

The second was a birthmark, where satan marked her in the womb. (I tugged my sleeve over my birthmarked forearm)

The third was that she didn’t bleed. (I thought of getting my nose pierced and finger pricked at blood donation stations and how my blood hesitates to flow)

It’s intriguing that such a far away fragment of Scotland’s vast history is so present in its citizen’s minds today. I had dozens of witch comments while I was there.

One of the last stops on our tour was the underground vaults. These are the rooms that are supposed to be the most haunted in the world. Knowing the power of suggestion, our tourguide lead us through the vaults, letting us experience each one before asking how we felt in them and explaining what happened there.

I thought most of it was rubbish. Except the last room. Women weren’t supposed to go in this room because of all the negative things that happened in it, but they just say that stuff to scare you, right?

When I walked in, I had the overwhelming urge to cry. As I stood there, I started to feel tugs on my shirt and brushes on my hands. A few minutes later, as I was about to leave my knees buckled and I fell to the ground. When I went to stand up, my shoulders were forced down. It was terrifying.

In the hallway, Lindsey pointed out the scratches on my neck.

Dozens of people have died in that room. The first was a group of families who were cooked alive after being locked in the vault during a fire. The men, instead of watching their wives and children burn to death, slit their throats. The tugs visitors feel are apparently the children looking for their moms, and the urge to cry is the sadness they felt.

The second string of deaths in that room occurred when a merchant rented it out. The vault served as his clandestine location for raping and murdering red headed women. (lame)

I love Ghostbusters and I love scary movies, but I’ve never put a lot of stock into the supernatural. But I know that there is energy inside of us. Electricity in our neural synapses. And Mr. Cassity taught me in physics that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed. So what happens to that energy when we die? Wouldn’t it make sense that in areas with high concentrations of deaths in a small amount of time, that lingering energy would pool together?

It sounds logical. I like logical. I don’t know what happened in those underground vaults, but I know that regardless of whether the ghosts were in my head or real, I was afraid. Did I really need to be? Probably not. But fearing the unknown is quite the human reaction to unexplainable occurrences.

What about you, do you believe?

Deal.

2010-07-20T19:42:00.000-04:00

I'm going to cuss if I feel like cussing.

Dammit.

Nothing Better.

2010-07-14T19:06:00.000-04:00

"So many crazy things happened last night.  For starters, Valerie had a headache."

S-U-A.

2010-07-13T21:42:00.005-04:00

I spent last Thursday in Stratford-Upon-Avon, the famed birthplace of Shakespeare. I wasn’t crazy about this place, and I think it shows in the photos. I got to see the house Will Shake was born in and his grave, but the whole time there was a “So what?” floating around my head. I did wonder around a pretty awesome cemetery and my vegie burger at the Dirty Duck was top notch.

We saw the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Romeo and Juliet. If you know me, then you know that I strongly dislike this particular play. The theater was really interesting and I snapped a few contraband photos. Our seats were raised off the ground so far that the only place for our feet was the bar in front of us and we had to lean forward to see the play. This got quite uncomfortable by the time the three hour play wrapped up. I was a little confused as to why Romeo and Juliet were dressed like modern day punks while the rest of the cast was dressed in traditional Elizabethan garb until the end when it was switched. I’m sure there’s some sort of symbolism involved but it was distracting and they never quite gave the audience enough to fully convey the message they were going for. All that being said, this was the first time I actually enjoyed Romeo and Juliet.

So in the end, Stratford was full of tourists and lackluster souvenir shops. It’s not likely I’ll ever make a return trip, but I did have a delightful mint chocolate chip ice cream cone.

Click to view the album!

Stratford-Upon-Avon

oxford

2010-07-13T02:24:00.000-04:00

So this is what I saw in Oxford!

(Click for more photos!)

Oxford

2010-07-07T19:52:00.000-04:00

I am absolutely infatuated with the city of Oxford.  
Before I went, I wasn't even excited.  

I anticipated a dreadfully boring day that wasn't worth the coach ride.  

Now, I'm determined to live there for a least portion of my life.

We are here (1)

2010-07-05T11:10:00.005-04:00

When I was in London as the daylight was waning and my energy was quickly retreating, one of the last spots we wanted to hit was the London Bridge, if only just to sing that song on it.
. .

So after venturing out of the underground tube station we started searching for the bridge. We didn’t want to ask locals because we were tired and we’d spent all day asking locals questions. Plus, all the surrounding buildings clued us in on its close proximity (London Bridge Hospital, London Bridge Ice Cream…)
.

Eventually our brains registered that we’d been on the bridge since exiting the tube. While the other sites we saw that day were rushed and packed with tourists, the bridge was serene. I didn’t hear the traffic or the chatter. I felt the air coming off the Thames; I felt the sunlight sneaking under the horizon behind me, and the wind blowing my hair into my face.
. .

Lindsey, Laura, and I stood on that bridge until it was empty and we started to shiver. We’d only been in Europe for four days and we’d decided to take on one of its biggest cities with little planning or safety nets cushion our experience. At that point, we weren’t even sure how we were going to make it back to our Worcester home three hours away.
. .

Until that moment, in that breeze on the bridge, it hadn’t felt like I’d gone anywhere despite all the hours I’d spent on buses, trains, planes and coaches. We’d been so wrapped up in following our maps, reading street signs, and looking for the things we’d only seen on postcards that we’d forgotten to look up and realize where we were.

That is, until Lindsey turns to us, smiles and proclaims, “We’re Here! We. Are. Here.” Following this she launches into one of her famous rambling diatribes about tutor history and what not…
. .

It was then that despite my lingering jet lag, my tired feet and growling stomach, I knew that this trip wasn’t about seeing all the famous places I could or buying I-heart- London t-shirts, it was about collecting experiences in places I don’t know with people I’ve just met.

. .

My reaction was delayed, but I didn’t react eventually.

I am here. And I am excited.

Worcester. (It's long)

2010-07-04T10:16:00.003-04:00

I am comfy, tucked in my bed, bundled up, and ready to not move any more for a long time. I’m fighting sleep after a long day, so just ignore my inevitable grammar mistakes. J

Thursday I spent the day exploring the city of Worcester and I have to say, I couldn’t be happier that it’s my hub while I’m spending my time here. It’s got such a rich history. The British civil war was fought here. In fact, some of the buildings on campus were hospitals during the war. (I hope they’re haunted, I’ll investigate later and report back)

We started the day with the cathedral. I wasn’t too hyped up about it, but once I got there, the vaulted ceilings, stained glass and raunchy tour guide really struck a cord. I loved it. The cathedral is over a thousand years old and it’s the same one King Charles camped out in during the civil war. We went to the library where a jittery librarian in white gloves showed us some literary masterpieces including a hymnal written by the monks at the cathedral over 500 years ago. It’s the only copy that survived the book burnings. We weren’t allowed to touch. I poked.

Also in the library were books with century old doodles in the margins, illustrations made from crushed rubies, King John’s thumb bone and some skin (still confused).

We got the opportunity to climb to the tower and see an amazing view of the city of Worcester. It was an arduous climb with the suffocating, narrow space and vertical staircase (I’m pretty sure the lit professor behind me could see up my skirt the whole time.)

But the time we reached the top, I realized that my camera was dead. (Grrr!) but I was kind of glad. So much of traveling is spent trying to take the perfect photo and capture every moment. Not enough time is spent really experiencing the places you go. So I just got to focus my day on everything I was seeing and learning instead of lugging out my camera every time I saw something cool.

After that we headed for tea with the mayor at the Guild Hall. He was funny and reminded me of my Grandpa Pridemore, but he had a sword. He said he’d actually heard of Arcanum, Ohio, but I’m skeptical.

I ate pork chops at a fancy fancy restaurant where King Charles II hung out. I have no idea why I ate pork chops because that is not something I’d normally go for…but it was awesome.

I had no idea that this town I’m staying in was so instrumental in English history, but it’s also got the bustle of being a modern city and I love that it’s not overrun by tourists. I can just go through a stroll in the city center and be surrounded by locals, history, and good tea.

Photos soon.

On another note, the weather here is finally becoming the English weather I’d been expecting. Howling winds, cooler temps, overcast…I love it.

The promised photos from london

2010-06-30T19:00:00.003-04:00

London

Click on Smirti to see the photos!

Guess What!

2010-06-29T18:20:00.002-04:00

There's a dragon on my roof.

L-L-London

2010-06-28T15:59:00.001-04:00

We departed for the train station at 7:30 in the morning where we took a train to oxford then a bus, and then another train (where we were sneaky and sat in First Class) before we stepped foot in London. Our first stop was Hyde Park (which is amazing) where we dropped Lauren off for her Paul McCartney concert.

Then it was just me, Lindsey, Laura, and all of London. We took in some sights (Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, London Bridge, Big Ben) and ate lunch at a nearly deserted underground pub as we could hear the cheers and cries of fans as England lost the football game.

The tube was our friend in the vast city and navigating was fun/frustrating.

Standing on London Bridge looking out at the Thames and the Tower of London was a surreal moment. The water, the wind, the wonderful people. The history of the area. It was breathtaking.

We walked through the kind of parks that have peppered with people lounging in the shade surrounded by masses of green loveliness. I would live in Green Park if it were legal.

We made it back to Hyde Park around 9 to hear some of Paul’s set and I’ve got to say, there is nothing in the world like standing with your friends listening to an original Beetle sing Let it Be as the sun sets on London.

It wasn’t long after a trillion encores and fireworks that it was dark and there were people literally lurking in the shadows. As the nighttime chill set in and my surrounding started to sink into obscurity, I realized just how unfamiliar I was with the area and it was a tad disconcerting.

By the time Lauren met back up with us throngs of concert goers were pouring out of the gates and we realized we had mere minutes to get halfway across town to catch the last train home.

We had to clutch hands so we wouldn’t loose track of each other in the crowd as we sprinted to the tube. Despite our exhaustion, we ran faster and longer than we ever thought we could.

My watch said 11 and my adrenal glad said panic. What if we didn’t make it back? Would we find a hostel? Sleep in the police station? Get kidnapped by human traffickers?

After a tube ride with one transfer, we finally made it to the train station where British Mr. Rogers giggled and told us our open return tickets were no longer valid. So we had to fork over an obscene number of pounds to get on a train we had previously been assured we’d already paid for. And I’m pretty sure Mr. Rogers made the process last eons longer than necessary.

We ended up hopping on the train with only seconds to spare (ok, that might be a tiny exaggeration, it could have been a minute or two) and making it back to Birmingham at 1:30 in the morning….Where we had to take a cab for an hour to actually get back to our flats. Our hurried footsteps echoed in the empty train station and I tried not to notice the caution tape around the exit door with bullet holes as we went outside to the taxi queue and climbed into a cab with a driver who slurred his speech, drove on the shoulder a little two much and had no idea how to get us home.

With guidance from us we made it back to our flats at 2:30…about 19 hours after our little adventure began.

We’ll see how my return trip in a couple weeks turns out.

Photos soon.

my knees are obnoxiously bruised.

2010-06-26T19:17:00.001-04:00

Hi.

I know I suck at this whole blogging/keeping you updated thing, but hey, things are wonky here.

Voltage/ outlet differences complicate my life in ways you can only imagine. (dramatized)

I had an awesome day in the city today. There was a festival with cool booths set up and it was really cool. I got to hear street music, see a smelly man juggling fire, and do some crazy line dancing with costumed old ladies. Fun.

It’s shocking how contagious the accents are. Seriously, I’m worried about coming back with one.

Travel plans are falling into place. Things are expensive and I wish I had more time, but I’m really starting to love where I am.

Tomorrow, I meet London.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, subway is just as tasty in Worcester, England.

Flat 8, Room D

2010-06-25T16:20:00.001-04:00

The Perks:

-Huge kitchen

-Go Green technology

-Sweet Flat mates

-Very spacious with lots of room for hangage.

-It's located on a beautiful campus.

-Towel Warmer!

What I could change if I could:

-My mom isn't here.

-The fact that the only way to leave the apartment or access food is to hit a "door release" button that doesn't always work.

-Cold. Cold Cold. (which makes no sense considering the lack of air conditioning)

-The lights are motion censored so when they go off and I'm still in my room, I feel like I'm being too lazy.

Ha. Also, English silverware is wonky.

Some Things.

2010-06-23T15:45:00.000-04:00

1. I am in Europe now.

2. The plane I took from Indy to New Jersey had to stop in the middle of take off because one of the auxiliary engines failed.

3. I got a sweet window seat though so it was ok.

4. In Newark we were stuck on the plane, that wasn’t moving at all, for over three hours.

5. The Statue of Liberty and Empire State building were right outside my window. That was neat.

6. For some reason, I had to sit really far away from the rest of my group.

7. I sat with these English folk instead. John and Nyphma.

8. They were cool, they taught me how to play fun card games. Nyphma hugged me in the terminal as we departed. It was sweet.

9. Sleepy.

10. I got a sweet window seat again!

11. When I got up in the middle of the night an Irish man walked by me at the back of the plane and said “Hey it’s the girl from 24F” I’m really confused as to how he knew my seat number.

12. We flew through giant, beautiful white clouds while lightning was flickering within them. It was amazing.

13. Security makes me nervous and the customs man was very mean.

14. My flat is really cool.

15. Except the water is apparently not safe to drink.

16. I am battling sleep in an attempt to defeat jetlag!

17. I miss my mom. She asked for this photo.

Bird is the Word.

2010-05-14T01:11:00.001-04:00

Today was my mom’s birthday. (yay)

I saw some movies. (yay)

Ate some chipotle.(yum)

Got a DINOSAUR EGG ice cream cone. ..that I dropped.(BOO)

Also, this little fella has been hanging out in our yard.

I've named him Sledgehammer. He is hungry, I think.

Sometimes I think thoughts.

2010-03-23T22:53:00.005-04:00

Cody Davis is a funny and talented human being
and I’m glad that he associates with the likes of me.

How can Mr. God be both Just and Merciful at the same time?
What is justice? And what of Mercy?

Why did it surprise my friends when I said I identified as Christian?
Am I a Christian?
(Some days I say no. Some days I say yes. Some days I say what’s that)

I have the utmost amount of respect and admiration for those who create something and have the balls to show it to the rest of the world.

More courage than I will ever have.
I think that to be unguarded must be to be free.

But what the fuck does that mean?At the White River

If I say “Can you pass the salt?” You hand me salt.
If I say “Can you run 50 miles?” You don’t start running.

I have chiggers. They itch.They are crawling all over me.

Today I feel smart. Today I feel capable. Today I feel worthwhile.

naked.

2010-03-22T00:21:00.002-04:00

It’s funny how things happen.

Fast. Without our permission. Before we’re ready.

Boom Toasted.

2010-02-19T00:58:00.000-05:00

My thoughts are scrambled like eggs and compartmentalized like waffles and irrelevant like breakfast itself.

I’m not wearing legitimate clothes right now and by legitimate clothes I mean pants. I am cold.

I feel bad for adverbs. So much hate. In jr. high when we learn about them, no one tells us that they’re part of Satan’s speech. Maybe I’ll adopt one. Love it like my own. Shelter it from all the anti-adverbism in the world.

I feel like I’m waiting for something.

Cody, you act like my list of accomplishments connects to form the double helix that creates this irrational, overrated ginger. My high school self is a different person from a different world with different DNA. Don’t try to figure her out. I never did.

I am disconnected.

I want to be obscene and use all the words that would shock you. But what would mother say?

If I have to read another page about Female Genital Mutilation, I’m going to drop out of school. Mark my words.

I can say I love you 33 different languages.

Today is awesome because

2010-01-30T15:03:00.005-05:00

Molly is here!
I’m wearing flannel!
We got to be thrifty!
Kew Kow is bringing snacks!
I am laughing!
I ate pancakes!
I got to see Tyler, Cody, AND Travis yesterday!
I’m in love with my life!
And the people in it!
Because of the fortification they provide, the pending storm won't be so destructive.
I hope.

It is tangible.

2010-01-25T04:30:00.001-05:00

It was night and she was next to me. She would always do that; lay with me until I fell asleep. We were watching the news because I liked to do that when I was 8 years old. There was a story of a girl who’d been raped at school. That was the first time I’d heard that word.

Rape.

I asked her what it meant. She told me that it was when someone was forced to do something they didn’t want to do. I imagined all the things I didn’t want to do. I still had no idea.

That’s one of my most vivid memories of my grandma and I have no idea why. That simple series of a few moments is something I didn’t even realize I recall almost daily.

WhyWhyWhyWhyWhy?

I ask until I’m out of breath.

I miss her every day.

Letters.

2010-01-19T21:33:00.002-05:00

Dear Mom,
Hi.

Dear Taylor Swift,
I feel imprisoned when your songs come on and I’ve just gotten in the shower.

Dear Babies,
You make me uncomfortable.

Dear Pregnant Women,
You make me uncomfortable also.

Dear Mr. Cassity,
I still understand the difference between molar mass and atomic mass. I can calculate the distance my car needs to come to a complete stop using its inertia and I’m a Bunsen Burner enthusiast. Let’s get coffee?

Dear Girl I know,
That headache was fake; I just didn’t want to have a conversation with you because I knew what you wanted to bring up.

Dear Facebook,
We’re finished.

Dear Coat and Boots and Hat and Gloves.
You guys make a great team. Thanks for all the warmth.

Dear New Semester,
So far you’re very neat.

Love,
Jordan

argile turtle shell soup

2010-01-13T00:38:00.002-05:00

Today feels good.

Life fits just right, like good shoes.

I’m learning to take care of myself.

I’m not sure it’s worth every sad face I’ve created this week.

Where is the balance? Can I manipulate the equation so disappointing others and going crazy cancel each other out?

If you’re reading this, I love you.

Thanks Oprah, I needed to know that.

It’s elementary, my dear Watson.

2010-01-10T23:18:00.002-05:00

Break is long gone.
Days of sleeping in and having time to exhale are lighyears behind me now.
My room seems bigger.
If anyone is brushing their teeth when I’m brushing mine, I keep brushing until after they’ve finished, even if I started first.
I don’t know what this says about me. That I’m passive aggressive and competitive perhaps?
I love flossing.

Today I like this font.

We never use serif fonts in newspapers.

Good thing this isn't a newspaper.
Speaking of good things, I work with good people.

I’m determined to be a better RA/student/person/friend this semester.
I made a new semester resolution (not to be confused with a new year’s resolution). I’m not going to tell you what it is because I assume that it’s lies within the realm of Birthday wishes, 11:11 pleas, and shooting stars, meaning that if you tell anyone it won’t happen. But it involves Sudoku.
Fishstick front doors swaying in the shallow sea on nothing but a slippery current and two-cent peppermint sticks, illuminated by the envious glow of a solitary nocturnal piranha who just wants his wife back.
Bring on your overwhelming stress.
Bring on your all-nighters.
Bring on your unaccomplishable to-do lists.
Happy Cody?

2009

2009-12-31T20:01:00.010-05:00

*This is more for my reflection than your enjoyment, so if i were you...I wouldn't read it.

January

Finally memorized my student ID number

Wholeheartedly committed myself to become an educator

Finished the mural

Met Tyler Gobble and Michael King, people who would shape the rest of my year.

February

Abstained from facebook

Started this blog

Missed my first RA interview

Entered a classroom for the first time as something other than a student

Didn’t eat for four days

March

Drove 4 hours to visit William by myself (a personal accomplishment for this notably awful driver)

April

Became an RA (didn’t realize this would be a life altering decision)

Met Matt Wallace, Alex Beasely, Lauren Diaz, Vicki Hayes, Tyeesha Harris, Clifton Snorten, and Tim O’Malley (didn’t realize they’d become family)

May

Kicked Brit. Lit. butt

Met Alex Salmins

Fell in love with VGR

Got glasses

Cultivated a deep seeded hatred for my job as a journalist

Ditched the hair

Got glasses

Started work for a political campaign (parades and all)

Ate live ants

June

Had my first panic attack

Wrote the most read story for the Dayton Daily News

July

Realized I love Journalism and it will always be part of my life

Showed Washington D.C. to my mom and grandmother

Had my wisdom teeth hacked out

Tasted pudding for the first time

August

Experienced the horror of duty for the first time

What I thought was cocaine was really creatin

SSO

Maya Williams and Travis Anderson joined the family

September

My first mediation

Thought for the first time that I was not capable of accomplishing something

Decided to never be an RA again

Dropped the D in Cody D

October

Committed to study in Europe this summer

Got dumped

Went to Chicago with Cody and Derek

Camped in the pouring rain

Started something covert

November

Goodbye to Timothy O’Malley

Said farewell to my teenage years with Kinsley and Molly

Realized that I want them to be a part of my life forever

Was threatened.

December

Wrote a book

Saw only A’s on my report card

Was astonished by that

Realized this was probably the most diverse decade I will ever live through.

I’m almost sad to say goodbye to such an eventful year. It will certainly be remembered, even if only as the one where I kissed way too many boys, picked out the names of my future children, and learned to love myself.

Love Letter

2009-12-31T03:39:00.001-05:00

Dear future husband,

From what I’ve come to understand marriage can be comparable to prison if you’re not careful. So we should try to make ours fun. Lets play tricks on each other and stuff. Our bed is always base, the garage is out of bounds, and sharp objects are off limits. Bonus points for craftiness.

Also, I’m always going to want a puppy or a kitten. No matter what. So, if you’re smart, which I really hope you are, you’ll avoid getting one until you need to make up for something.

Please don’t smoke, or sleep with your secretary, or develop a dependency for some expensive illicit narcotic. That would just break my heart.

We can read good books and then swap! We could be nomads or suburban dwellers. We can have a garden and learn to cook exotic food. Together, we can go on adventures and do the things that scare us.

Hubby, I have no idea who you are or if I’ve met you, but I hope you don’t play dungeons and dragons or have a history of heart disease in your family. I’d hate to pass those on to Junior.

Well, that’s all for now.

Til death do us part,

Jordan

one day I might write something worthwhile.

2009-12-29T02:35:00.003-05:00

Mt. Everest is in my mind, weighing heavy and old.

Four separate quadrants of thought.

Compartmentalized and cold.

Ice-Ice-Isolated.

1. Exactly five years ago the Tsunami killed over 250,000 people.
a. Mother nature must be a terrorist.

b. I’m still sad about all that lost potential, those displaced futures and the families who still weep.

2. Kirby has a habit of reappearing in my life when I need him most, armed with the words I need to hear.
a. Yesterday it went like this.

Kirby: you're trying to help other people too much

and you need to take care of yourself first

Me: you think i do that?

Kirby: yes

Me: that doesn’t seem good.

Kirby: yeah

you have to take care of yourself first

what if you were in someone elses shoes,

and you saw yourself the way you are right now?

what would you do?

Me: i'd definitely kick them

b. What he said really intrigued me and reminded me that I’m bad at introspection.

c. but he also said I looked like a dyke.

3. I miss my grandma Pridemore
a. Every single day.

4. My grandma Cook was in a car accident yesterday. I’m horrified that she won’t be okay.
a. Today, as my own car was spinning out of control toward a telephone pole I felt unafraid.
b. Now I tremble.

Navidad

2009-12-24T22:34:00.002-05:00

I really dislike the gift-exchanging aspect of Christmas.

But the spirit of materialism manifests itself brilliantly in my family. I love giving gifts, but not when it’s accompanied by expected reciprocity or strategically so your gift is the most appreciated and memorable.

That makes it meaningless.

I’m almost dreading tomorrow because the entire family is getting together out of obligation, not because we actually like each other.

I wish the burnt bridges could be rebuilt.

But the walls are stubborn and impenetrable.

Tension. Grudges. Manipulation. Tears. Scars. Fallacies. Misunderstandings.

There is love, but it’s so misguided that it never reaches its intended destination.

Here’s to hoping that tomorrow, where I’m anticipating awkwardness and swear words, there’ll be a Christmas miracle and the love will find its way.

Cheers.

Best wishes to you and yours.

Note to self: appendages.

2009-12-24T17:31:00.003-05:00

The next time we're climbing out of our car and wearing a dress at the same time, lets try to be more ladylike, shall we?

Knees together please.

Thanks for the beating.

2009-12-23T23:07:00.002-05:00

Dear Heart,
Thank you for beating relentlessly.

Sometimes I hate you for never learning to turn away from people who don’t regard how fragile you are, but I’m going to stop trying to change that. No matter what anyone says, it’s an asset.

On my sleeve is where you belong. That’s who we are.
Sometimes I work you too hard and put you through too much. But you stick with me and I love you for that.

Loving without reciprocity has made us stronger and made us weep. Sometimes I have real problems with the decisions you make and the people you invite in, but I know it isn’t my decision, it’s yours.

I’ve always gotten a little pissed off when people say things like “follow your heart” or “listen to your heart.” Bullshit. You aren’t a map. You don’t speak in a language I can decipher.

I don’t understand you. I follow blindly, faithfully.

But overall, I think we make a good team. And it’s nice to know that while people come and go, we’ll always have each other.

With all the love I can muster and utmost sincerity,
Jordan

she left the light on.

2009-12-22T00:38:00.005-05:00

So I got my head out of stu west.

And then I started thinking about stu west.

And the arrow that pointed toward my name.

Toward me.

The line linking an ugly threat to me.

But I’m not supposed to take it personally.

That was at first.

And then the notes started.

And continued until it was a daily thing.

I didn’t think it bothered me.

But then I had to read it every day.

That someone is going to rape me.

And after it was hurtful and heartbreaking, it just got old.

That’s what sucks about leaving.

I start thinking about what I’m leaving.

And then I never want to go back.

How is it Christmas already?

2009-12-20T23:34:00.006-05:00

Home.
I Am Home.
I Am Here.
Here is Home?

(1) Today feels like it was Twodays (2) First day of break is over. (3) I went shopping. I hate shopping. (4) I acknowledge that I’m spoiled. (5) My mom is very neat. (6) I started a new book today. It’s a first attempt at recreational non-fiction. ( 7) My mom made me stop so we could watch survivor. 8. Home feels nice. (9) Tyler Gobble is a very nice friend. (10) Cody Davis lights up my life. (11) My tree decorating skills are cuh-razy. (12) Atop my stove is the apple pie my grandmother baked me. (13) She is awesome. (14) Brittany Murphy died. 32. The sadness I get when a celebrity dies is irrational. (15) I feel anxious.(16) My blog is lame. I'm glad no one reads it.

I'm happy to see this fella.

And I hope I get to do a lot of this.

I'm thankful for

2009-11-26T10:17:00.016-05:00

Love and Hope and all that jazz.

For the times when I know what the right thing to do.

Books with sans-serif font.

Tyler Gobble, who motivates me to try my hardest and do my best.

Maya Williams, who pushes me to think harder, forcing me to figure out who I am.

Michael King for keeping me on the right path and for smiling through the rocky parts.

Vicki Hays, what a wonderful Co.

I’m also grateful for

Molly Stover for reminding me that life is made to laugh at.

For knowing me better than I know myself, Kinsley Kemp gets the kudos.

Travis Anderson for keeping me sane.

Max for being himself.

My grandma because I love her and she’s the hardest working person I know.

William Holman for being inspiringly courageous.

and

For teaching me what unconditional friendship is, I credit Cody (D).

Cliffton and Tim for making my life smokey and fun.

Little Lauren Diaz for her encouraging text massages.

The tough lessons I learned from Mr. Alex Salmins.

Bob for being consistent, unrelenting, honest, and unconditional

My family for driving me crazy.

Mom. For giving birth to me and being the weirdest most wonderful person I’ve ever met.

And finally, despite my inability to articulate, I’m so enormously grateful for my life, with all this challenges and each of its perks.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

So my gratitude is stereotypical, but still

Thank you.

I'm a mean.

2009-11-17T01:17:00.002-05:00

Bits of torn paper and shards of glass mingling in the funnel clouds within the heavenly cotton membrane that holds all the people on the home-shaped globe at the very bottom of a forgotten bag of marbles.

COMM 210

“It’s a question of value,” said the professor.

But I want to ask her, “What’s your value?”

Where’s you’re heart?

-Tucked into your cold, concrete skyscraper of a power point presentation?

-Did it die with the batteries in the microphone that carries your voice to the 1200 empty, apathetic ears that are ignoring you?

-Or is it in the pocket of your juvenile green jacket?

Does it bother you that no one is listening to you?

It does?

Well, it bothers me that you don’t really are about the answers to your courtesy ‘how are you’s?’

I’m sorry I’m mean, I think I’m sick.

Harsh Realization.

2009-11-10T00:32:00.003-05:00

I have a resident who hates me.

Sure, there might be 59 other residents who are perfectly fine with my performance.
But there is ONE

irrational
illogical
hateful
menacing
deceitful
manipulative
rude
two-faced
self-righteous

girl who hates me.

(I really try to love everyone, but this ones a toughy)

And I realized while I was in the shower that the things I don't like about her are things I dislike about myself.

Then the fleeting notion flickered in my brain, if she ever gets over her incessant hatred of me, we'd probably be great friends.

But then I realized that I wouldn't want to be friends with someone so much like me.

Make sense?

I want a kitty.

2009-11-06T15:59:00.001-05:00

Right Now?

2009-11-04T00:54:00.002-05:00

Life is a dance.
Life is a roller coaster.
Life is a mustache.

And anything to make you smile
It is my better side of you to admire
But they should never take so long
Just to be over then back to another one

TODAY,

2009-10-29T21:52:00.001-04:00

I screamed as loud as I could.

But it's ok, no one heard me.

Dear Tyler Gobble,

2009-10-16T02:44:00.002-04:00

Thank you for being my friend.

I love and appreciate you.

With utmost sincerity,

Jordan

Break-ups and downs

2009-10-14T01:31:00.003-04:00

Kinsley works at a nursing home and I’m an RA.

We exchange stories of crazy residents.

And wonder what it would be like if hers mixed with mine.

Worn, creased faces beside fresh, acned ones.

We laugh at the thought.

-Scary Realization:I care a lot about these girls and genuinely want each and every one of them to succeed.

-This kind of emotional investment was not in my contract.

I feel like a failure when girls move from my floor or like I threw in the towel when Sheltered Princess moves down the hall to get away from Blunt Elitist.

I’m learning not to take it personally.

The best part of this gig is the built in support system of the staff. They get me through the hard days and convince me repeatedly that I’m worthwhile. They’re a wonderful bunch.

But I have my favorites, I’m not going to lie.

It Rained Rained Rained, and we Loved Loved Loved.

2009-10-13T02:54:00.005-04:00

I bought the ticket on a whim after Cody had invited me to the concert.

Going to concerts always makes me nervous. I never feel quite cool enough.

Brand New, Manchester Orchestra at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago.

The Windy City.

It took us hours to get there.

(four of them)

I drove them all. This is a huge personal accomplishment.

Once we arrived, paid twenty bucks to park, and hit up a starbucks, we found ourselves in a head shop listening to a stonned Kevin Smith Replica talk about a “sack of tatoes”.

Also, for the low, low price of two dollars I rescued a sunny yellow hat from a dreary army supply store; but my favorite purchase of the day was a worn Edith Wharton novel from a cutesy used bookstore.

The concert was a madhouse. Manchester was mind-blowing and Brand New stirred up passionin the crowed that I didn’t know existed.

I can’t believe I’d forgotten how much I liked getting shoved around by horrifyingly hugemasses of sweaty, intoxicated people.

It was late once we headed back toward home. Our eyes got droopy and as the driver, I knew we wouldn’t make it the whole way, so we parked at a truck stop and napped for a few hours.

It was freezing.

I’m astonished that we didn’t get murdered by a serial killer.

Cody D is one of the loveliest additions to my life. Without him, I’d be lost.

(By the way his eye ball is almost completely healed now.)

And Derek, the trust sidekick is pretty swell as well.

Dear Walt Whitman,

2009-09-23T21:39:00.002-04:00

Thank you for taking me away this week.

[I celebrate myself, and sing myself]
By Walt Whitman

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back awhile sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.

I appreciate the the escape and am glad we are friends now.
Love,
Jordan

"The sign says Stu West, but my heart says jail"

2009-09-14T00:23:00.004-04:00

This weekend was:

Duty.
Bodily Fluids in the stairwell (nasty).
Travis time (nice guy).
Alexander (Cowboy, boyfriend)
My foray into matchmaking (Lauren and Abe).
Excellent.
"Let me lend a machete to your intellectual thicket" (great line).
Long
Challenging.
A visit from my Mumsy (I am loved).
Quesadilla (vegetarian).
Underage drinkers.

The RA job is getting harder as my duties don’t mesh well with the expectations I have for myself as a student.

Friends make it easier.

Attitudes make it harder.

The basic necessities of life are starting to become a hindrance that I don’t have time for (eating, sleeping, breathing).

But I’m really starting to love it. “It” being where I’m at and what I’m doing.

I’m learning something new every day and I feel like I’m being prepared for future challenges.

I can’t wait for real life, but for now, this is a decent substitute.

Aspen's Grizzly

2009-09-09T15:54:00.001-04:00

Do it.

Personify.

“Read. Read Read. And then Write. “

Chew it up and spit out metaphorically.

"I want to hear a poem where ideas kiss similes so deeply that
metaphors get jealous,

Where the subject matters so much that adjectives start
holdin' pronoun rallies at city hall.”

I want to hear a story..

…with two bickering languages, only one of which I speak.

Telling me what I already know

2009-08-21T11:17:00.002-04:00

On the Resident life website the number three mistake first year RAs make is underestimating the time commitment.

I really thought I knew how it would be, but I was completely caught off guard by the time, emotional, and energy investment this job requires.

Even when I take off the nametag and polo, I’m still an RA. They told me this in training but I was skeptical. However, tonight when I ventured to the Village with friends and a resident asked me a question, I knew I was wrong. This is a 24 hour a day job.

Am I being overly dramatic? Probably.

Thank heavens for the wonderful staff I work with. Like with any job, major or subculture, no one can really understand or relate except those who are involved in it. I wish I could make my friends understand that.

Quotes of the day:

We are icons.

I live in a fishbowl. And I don’t know how to swim.

My life is a program.

I’m sorry to my family and friends, but I just can’t explain. And I’m sorry that it’s all I talk about, but it really is all my life consists of right now.

In other, non-related news, I finally took the Myers Briggs personality test.

I’m INFJ: Intoverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging.

The recommended careers for this are librarian (check) and teacher (yes!)

Other notable INFJ’s: Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Jane Goodall, Emily Bronte, Dumbledore, and Carl Jung himself.

Not bad company.

: ) that brightened my day a little.

At the end of the day, like usual I am happy with life and madly in love with the world.

Adios Summer.

2009-08-20T15:28:00.000-04:00

My to-do list is ever growing as it usually is when life whips into a new direction. This RA gig is interesting to say the least. Lots of responsibilities and lots of things that can go wrong. But it’s a job that promises to provide many “we’ll laugh at these later” kinds of stories.

I’ve already faced key issues, roommate issues, and angry parents. Now I feel like there’s nothing I can’t face!

My residents have started to move in. I’ll have sixty of them. I’m already overwhelmed with the responsibility of learning their names and guiding them into a new year.

But I’m excited in the way that I’m excited about being a teacher some day.

I miss summer. I miss the days when I spend more time outside than in. I woke up with my dog curled up next to me. When I’d hang clothes on the line moments before I’d start to pour, so I’d just leave them there.

I miss the trees and the people who filled my days with wonderfulness.

But they’ve been replaced with a lovable bunch of eclectic personalities and smiling faces. I’m surprised to discover that I’m excited about my first opportunity to venture back to Darke County.

Nontoxic with a built in sharpener

2009-08-01T01:56:00.003-04:00

I hate how confining the construct of time is. When the clock chimes midnight, my day is technically all abruptly over. Well, not really, but I’ve recently developed this huge pet peeve: when people start referring to it as the next day at exactly 12:00 a.m. It’s so unnecessary to complicate things like that. The conversational “yesterdays,” “todays,” and “tomorrows” are suddenly very confusing.

I’ve always assumed that a day ends when you go to sleep and the new one begins when you wake up. Yes, this does leave a small window of inactivity in undetermined territory. But why do we have to compartmentalize time so rigidly?

I appreciate routine and I can go a little bonkers without structure, but I don’t like the idea of living by a clock, life by numbers.

It just seems cold. There’s no room for frivolity.

This summer has been a unique one for me. With my first year of college under my belt, returning home could have been a painfully regressive and prickly transition; luckily my mom’s awesomeness prevented that.

But going from frolicking with my college buddies to a nine-to-five job where the majority of my coworkers were over forty was a bit of a culture shock.

I spent the bulk of my time at the Dayton Daily hating every second of it. I loathed my cubical, my deadlines, and I was terrified of my editor. I counted down the days and minutes until I’d be free.

And then during the last week, I got comfortable. I bonded with my boss, started to love the crotchety old men in the surrounding cubicles, and I realized that I had a knack for what I was doing.

I wish I would have had a better attitude and tried harder for the first seven weeks and I’m lucky the internship will continue next summer. I’m also extremely grateful that my negativity wasn’t reflected in the work I did.

I snagged some assignments that hadn’t been handed to interns before and am even doing some post-internship freelancing. I was even told on my last day that my name “came up in some important meetings.”

Words cannot express my relief and gratitude for this! Now if only I actually wanted to be a journalist…

I miss these women every second of every day.

Have you ever asked the grinning bobcat why he grins?

2009-07-21T05:16:00.001-04:00

There are about ten songs, scattered randomly throughout my favorite playlists and albums that will never cease to transport me back to my freshman year of college. This soundtrack will always elicit the indescribable feelings of being on my own for the first time and getting to know the most incredible people.
Memories play like an expertly crafted movie montage. It simultaneously makes me smile and breaks my heart. Such a good archive of stories to recall and tell to my children one day in an attempt to convince them that I was young once too, but also a doleful reminder that times may never be that happy, carefree, and new ever again.
A lot of times, that’s why I like certain music. Because it reminds me of a time when I was listening to it, when it was the background music to my life. But then I wonder, where does my taste fit into that?
I have the same problem with all of art. I can’t listen to a song, see a painting, or watch a play and tell you definitively if I like it or not. I have to mull it over, talk about it, analyze it.
This drives me crazy. Myself and others are often annoyed by my indecisiveness. I used to think it was a people pleasing thing, but more recently I’m believing more that it’s something all it’s own.
I don’t know what I like. I don’t know what I dislike. And I certainly don’t know how to go about figuring it out.
Will I ever be able to definitively say how I feel about anything. Or will I continue to be a fickle bandwagoner?
…The saga shall continue.

I'm limited.

2009-07-20T00:21:00.008-04:00

I love people.
I love how every person has a story. A twisting and winding tale with intricate plot twists, flawless character development, and an ending that’s impossible to spoil.

When I meet people I want to know all their secrets just for the sake of knowing. I want to know what it is in their life that that resulted in them being in the exact same spot as me at that precise moment.

I want to know their hopes and dreams. I want to know what makes them happy and what makes them weep. I just want to know their story.

The woman from years ago looking sad, picking at her salad at a lonely table in an empty restaurant pops into my head more frequently than I ever thought a stranger could.

The day my mom and I decided to ask a stranger if they could use some company was the day her husband’s Alzheimer’s had robbed her of what she held most dear. The day she needed someone to care.

I want to be that person for people. The one who’s there when they need it. I hope I have that opportunity again some day.

Learning to listen and figuring out what to do after I hear you is on the agenda for the next year. I'm planning to focus more on others, let my empathy guide me instead of being smothered by unintentional narcissism.

In other, completely unrelated news, I saw the sixth installment of the epic Harry Potter series today. I hate all the hype but really enjoyed the movie. I was in awe over Tom Felton’s performance as Draco. He conveyed his isolation and torment beautifully with very few words.

I was a little bummed that they eliminated the Tom Riddle back story and the intense fight scene that took place after Dumbledore’s assassination. But such is life.

~

So basically, read Harry Potter and tell me your story.

p.s. I miss you

2009-07-19T03:37:00.007-04:00

Back from D.C. I was jazzed about being the one to show it to my mom and grandma for the first time. I developed a new pet peeve in the process: Tourists who are more preoccupied with snapping keepsake photos than experiencing a new place for themselves…obnoxious. More to come on that trip soon.

I’m shoving off to New York tomorrow and then Chicago with a brief pit stop at home to get the wisdom teeth removed. I’m a total wimp when it comes to dentists and painful things happening in my mouth so I’m planning on being completely incapacitated for a sold few days.

***

In my summer idleness, I’ve discovered that I miss writing my column. I miss being pushed to take a stand and a deadline forcing me to articulate the mess in my head. There might be a new opportunity for this again, but it certainly won’t be the same as it was when I wrote for the Advocate. No editor could ever come close to offering the encouraging criticism and simultaneous motivation as Bob did. I miss the “old days.”

Even today, if I’m nervous about a piece, I shoot it to him before I send it to my real editor. It’s childish insecurity, but I like to think of it as endearing loyalty.

***

Since hacking my hair off, I’ve been silently willing my follicles to produce luscious locks at an unnatural speed. I miss having hair but I love not having to fuss. In the future when I get frustrated with my do, I won’t hesitate to chop it off again.

I hope my hair heeds the warning: cooperate or else!

***

In other news, life is getting more complicated as it always does before the fall. I’m hoping to handle it with more grace and maturity than in previous years.

I want nature.

I want simplicity.

I want transcendence

Earthshake.

2009-05-24T02:01:00.007-04:00

It’s been a swift transition between my days at BSU and my new business-casual life in the cubical.

Disconcerting how quickly things change.

Hacking off ten inches of hair, yanking out some wisdom teeth, burning in the sun. All these physical changes when really I’m searching for some sort of deeper alteration.

I’m ready to be that person I’ve always waited to become. I’m ready to carve a slice of sanity into this crazy nutshell.

I think I’m going to get an African Violet or maybe a fish.

Man, I’m mundane these days.

Adiós Indiana. Brown Publishing, you will be hearing from me.

2009-03-04T22:34:00.003-05:00

Be quiet, silent in fact. Strong: immune to the winds.

A furious hurricane couldn’t make me budge.

Stubborn or Spineless? Who knows?

Who cares?

I am livid. A triad of fury.

The wind blows my hair into my eyes and it annoys me. My hair has always annoyed me at least I can expect it, appreciate it for its constancy.

I am not used to this, the rage I mean. This debilitating anger.

But I don’t punch a wall or yell. I’m not going to write an angry poem or paint an ominous abstract. Nah, that’s just not my style.

So I’ll just be quiet.

Silent in fact.

"You do have nice kneecaps"

2009-02-26T00:10:00.004-05:00

My paper is finished and Beowulf is officially an anti-hero. My mind is swimming with thoughts of philosophy and I wsih I was a poet so I could express every thing so beautifully concise.

I’ve decided that I don’t like learning lessons. It seems to me that the only way to do it is the hard way. Of this I disapprove.

ALSO, I don’t like grammar. Well, actually I suppose it’s punctuation I don’t like. Comma splices and such. This is a free country and I think I should be able to, put, commas, wherever, the, hell, I, w,a,n,t, to.

Aisle Three

2009-02-10T23:33:00.004-05:00

Saw Don Giovanni on Sunday, it was my first opera. The beauty of Italian filled the theater and I almost think I would have liked it more if there hadn’t been distracting subtitles. Either way I wasn't blown away, but I did enjoy it.

Tonight was Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I went in not knowing anything about the plot and searched the program fruitlessly for a synopsis. It was nice watching a story unfold without having any idea what was going to happen.

Saturday (Valentine’s Day) is The Importance of Being Ernest. I have high hopes.

I feel like I’m getting more cultured by the minute and I’m loving every second of it. My taste is changing though. I suppose it’s the classic demassification that I should be experiencing at this stage of my life.

So hopefully, with a little luck and an open mind, my increasing pickiness with be accompanied by high quality entertainment.

the loves of my life.

2009-02-07T21:59:00.008-05:00

Mi madre.

Clay Carter.

My William.

My Mighty Max.

The mural, it alleviates the frigidness of living in cinder blocks.

William deserves to be on here twice.

So does Clay.

Kinsley lights up my life,

more than I ever knew a roommate could.

Molly is equally wonderful. If my life was a play, she'd steal the show.

Cody D. is also neat.

unexpectedly sunny.

2009-02-06T15:45:00.003-05:00

Today is a headache.

A headache, helado con mi amigo nuevo, and a to do list that whips through the air like ribbon through the breeze in an imagined place with bright, cloudless skies and emerald pastures.

Today is waiting and anxiety. The letter is supposed to be here, but with my postcard it is not. I can see the page in my mind. A premature image with too many words. Too many black letters scattered across the white page when a simple yes or no would suffice.

Waiting like this will be the death of me. One moment I’m convinced, preparing myself for the “no” that I’m positive waits inside some envelope somewhere on its way to me. And then for a few fleeing moments I smile and know that I deserve this opportunity. All the hard work and thankless hours I put in have brought me here and I’ve earned it.

I wish confidence was unconditional and permanent.

In other news, I’m wrapping up Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns and it is superb. Even before the conclusion, I already feel myself seeing the world differently. It’s incredible how a fast the world you know can change, how quickly it can morph into something you don’t even recognize.

Scary thought that I’m trying to avoid associating with how the world I know is changing.

My abstaining continues. No Facebook and the fast starts tomorrow. According to Esquire, if I survive the next three days, I’ll be a man with more character and self-discipline than I had before.

Set in Motion

2009-02-04T21:27:00.001-05:00

I live a comfortable life, with a comfortable routine. I have more than I need, waste more than is necessary, and appreciate things less than I should. I say “I” incessantly, like it’s something important.

In my quest for self-discovery and an understanding of the world around me, I want to know exactly what I can’t live with out. I want a quantifiable, tangible list of what I can endure and what I cannot.

I want to know that I can make it on my own. I want to stop confusing necessities and conveniences. So I’m going to start giving things up. Things I use everyday. I’m starting with a week without social networking sites, lame I know, but I’ve got to start surrendering something. This week it’s Facebook, next week it could be my bed, speaking, vanity, or technology. Who knows?

I want to test my limits, find out what’s really important to me. I want to stop feeling so…dormant. I have inertia; I just need to be set in motion.

This could be a bad idea born from my unchallenged mind or my habitually unsatisfied need to be rootless. But I’m stubborn and I’ve decided that I want to replace my comfort with affliction.

Giving up Facebook seems like a miniscule sacrifice, but I already feel disconnected. I’m going to miss that constant knowledge that I’m only a click away from over 200 “friends.” It’s a security blanket; there to remind me that I’ve been accepted for who I am, I have a place in society, I belong to a group…

I’ve removed it from my bookmark list on my browser so that I can avoid checking it out of sheer habit. That’s what I want to get rid of, bad habits, wasted time.

Already, I’ve read a book that’s been sitting on my shelf for months. Maybe it’s the motivation that accompanies the start of something new, but today has been the most productive day I’ve had in a long while.

My fast starts on Saturday. How long can I go without food, three days is the goal, we’ll see where it goes. This comes from a list my roommate was talking about. Apparently if you’re a real man, you can go three days on water alone.

Also on the self-improvement agenda this week are a blood drive and tickets to an opera.