I did not get to go to Lansing because my one plan and my five backup plans fell through. It was not meant to be.
I am working on Tuesday, Nick's and my parents' celebramatations on Wednesday and Thursday. Nick's parents' again on Saturday. And MAYBE meeting up with the friends I couldn't see in Lansing Saturday night.
Current Plan
Disappear somewhere around June, set up a new life somewhere out east or in california, let everyone know where I went about six months after that.
crossposted
I am very blessed. I have a boyfriend who loves me (and lets me sleep and makes me bagels with cream cheese and turkey (when I don't feel well and when he thinks it sounds disgusting)) and whom I love. I have a family that despite my coming home from a semester in Europe and immediately moving out, still loves me.
I am blessed because I had two Thanksgivings. And I will have two Christmases.
I talked to one of the new student workers today. His father lost his factory job and his mother lost her greenhouse job. Downsizing. He had Spaghetti O's for Thanksgiving. In his dorm room. He says Christmas doesn't look too great either.
I left work crying.
I've always had a Christmas. I've always had a Thanksgiving. No matter how poor my parents said they were that year. I can't imagine not having one. But this kid did. This kid will.
I feel like I learn more about faith and feel better about faith in my Arabic class than I ever did in my Theology class.
In my Theology class, I was angry and upset that I was supposed to believe what he said I needed to. That I needed to obey the laws he said existed. Laws and rules I didn't think any god cared about.
In my Arabic class, I feel good about this god that I thought was mean and restrictive. I feel good about the world. Every day we have a religious discussion, even inadvertently.
I guess I'm not doing the Catholic thing anymore? I guess I haven't for a while. I like this God guy. I'm feeling things out but I'm a big fan of this non-denominational thing. I just hate religion so much. We'll see where this goes.
Whoaa.
I can't believe I always forget about my Woohu. It's sad. This was my first journal site, and I love it. I just wish others here were still active. No one that I used to talk to is really on here and it makes me sad. If anyone is interested you can find me a few different ways.
FACEBOOK: Search for me (Marissa Fein) just tell me who you are, and that you're from WOOHU.
MySpace: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=609403 - There is my link, send me a message and let me know who you are and that you are from WOOHU :)
AIM: Defectivexbeauty
YAHOO: lovesalosinggame
Livejournal (that I barely use): riss___
Melodramatic.com: dorktothemax
So, that aside things are going ok. So much has been going on in my life it would take me ages to update everyone. If you'd like to talk, just find me and I would be glad to indulge in some intelligent conversation, witty banter, or just shooting the shit :)
The Space Heater, by Sharon Olds
On the then-below-zero day, it was on,
near the patients' chair, the old heater
kept by the analyst's couch, at the end,
like the infant's headstone that was added near the foot
of my father's grave. And it was hot, with the almost
laughing satire of a fire's heat,
the little coils like hairs in Hell.
And it was making a group of sick noises-
I wanted the doctor to turn it off
but I couldn't seem to ask, so I just
stared, but it did not budge. The doctor
turned his heavy, soft palm
outward, toward me, inviting me to speak, I
said, "If you're cold-are you cold? But if it's on
for me..." He held his palm out toward me,
I tried to ask, but I only muttered,
but he said, "Of course," as if I had asked,
and he stood up and approached the heater, and then
stood on one foot, and threw himself
toward the wall with one hand, and with the other hand
reached down, behind the couch, to pull
the plug out. I looked away,
I had not known he would have to bend
like that. And I was so moved, that he
would act undignified, to help me,
that I cried, not trying to stop, but as if
the moans made sentences which bore
some human message. If he would cast himself toward the
outlet for me, as if bending with me in my old
shame and horror, then I would rest
on his art-and the heater purred, like a creature
or the familiar of a creature, or the child of a familiar,
the father of a child, the spirit of a father,
the healing of a spirit, the vision of healing,
the heat of vision, the power of heat,
the pleasure of power.
An LJ writing prompt for lack of better subject matter
Some people spend their whole lives preparing the answer to this question: What albums are on your personal all-time Top 10 list?
I took this to mean albums I can listen to the whole way through and never skip a song, albums that will always make me stop and listen for a bit, albums that make me remember. Not really the sort of things I would put onto mixes, just because I think the album in its entirety is so great. Got it? Okay.
"I have wished that each building around us
Was a cedar, a poplar, a pine;
That the men and the women were statues,
An the rain that was falling was wine;
That the lights were ethereal flowers;
That the cars were the nooks in the wood,--"
Ameen Rihani, Lilatu Laili
