Obsession

I just started a new playlist on iTunes. I’m calling it “OBSESSION.” It’s for those songs I play over and over on repeat. Right now, it’s Bruno Mars’ song, “Somewhere in Brooklyn.” Two weeks ago it was, “The World Should Revolve Around Me.” In Ukraine it was, “These Words.” So I obsess about songs. Why not?

I had a crush on a guy who wrote a few letters to me when I was in Ukraine. We answered questions in our letters. One of the questions was, “what song would you listen to if you could only listen to one for the rest of your life?” He didn’t answer. He said it was a horrible question and he couldn’t imagine such a life. Well, it’s a good thing my crush ended before we ever took a roadtrip or even drove to the movies together. I’m just sayin…

I think after the twelfth time I play it, I’ll change the playlist. Good idea?

Thursday Night

NBC. Friends. The Office. 30 Rock.
Lots of laughs.
Tons of fun.
Procrastinating homework.
Staying up late.
Not caring.
Tomorrow’s Friday.
Hate Trump.
Drinking soda.
Had popcorn.
Love the weekend.
Need to study.
Back to typing.
Reach the end.

RAIN

It’s what I love about Oregon.
Wet leaves, covering the ground.
Water puddles perfect for jumping in.
Speckled glasses.
Drops catching on eyelashes, dripping mascara.
Angry clouds.
Semi-tipping wind.
Red. Yellow. Turning brown.
Need my raincoat.
Go inside.
Cuddle us.
Soak in the fire.
Just two more months until Christmas.

Dancing in Movies

My sister, Shelli, was always into dance movies. Anytime a dance film came out when we were in high school, she’d want to watch it and she would. She was grounded for most of her senior year of high school. Thus, the two of us had many a movie night. Shelli and I would go to Safeway, pick up a four-cheese pizza and our favorite ice cream and walk over to Blockbuster to rent the old eighties dance movies she loved. It was our thing. And when our parents were out of town and we were left alone, instead of having parties, this was what we would do. I’m sure my nerdiness rubbed off on her. She’d always been the cool one (which explains the dance movies). But it was a good time. Now every time I watch a dance movie, I think of Shelli. Why wouldn’t I? It was our thing. Shelli lives a state away these days. We don’t get to spend a lot of time together and when we do, we’re usually surrounded by all of our family members. I’m sure some day, we’ll be ditched by the family and only Shelli and I will be lounging around on the couch together. But for some reason, I doubt we’ll pop in a dance movie.

A little faith in Obama

I stopped believing in the tooth fairy in third grade. I learned about Santa Claus in fourth. I learned to do my own laundry in fifth grade and I realized prince charming wasn’t coming along at age twenty-five.

I also voted for Barack Obama. I loved what he stood for: bringing hope and change to America. Never once did I think he was God or that he had super powers. I thought he was a cool guy running for a really intense position, but he believed in the same sort of things I did. He had great ideas for change, the kind of ideas I couldn’t think up if I hung out with Harvard graduates everyday.

I still like Obama. Sure, not all the promises have been fulfilled, but people who believe in the Bible have been waiting for thousands of years for their promises to be fulfilled. Many wait till death to reach heaven. That’s a lot of faith in something or someone you can’t see in person. But we can see Obama. We read about or hear about the wars, economic failings, and health care policies he’s dealing with daily. Why can’t we put a little bit of faith in our own guy? He’s one of us, after all. He’s an American. He puts himself in the public eye and gets bashed by bloggers and commentators every day. Personally, I know I could never do it. I take it personally when people look at me with a blank expression. I assume they hate me. I like Obama and you know, I think if we were all a little more positive (including myself), maybe we could get along a little better. Because right now, it really sucks to be a voting American.

collecting the crapper

Today my brother is holding a toilet roundup/ BBQ. It’s strange. The fact that he knew he could invite our family to such an event is telling. We’re country dwellers. There are a few toilets in the backyard. My father is saving them for his shop and the pool house.

I pulled one out of the woods today. It’s on the front lawn, waiting for my sister to pick it up and take it to the BBQ. Gotta love Saturdays. ☺