Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Bata- that's Arabic for "duck"

Last night I had a dream that I was a duck. I seemed to be a crime fighting duck (when I woke up, I kept thinking about Darkwing Duck). I don't remember what kind of case I was on, I mostly just remember the feeling that I wasn't like all the other ducks. I think I was like the renegade duck. The duck that just wanted to do my own thing. I didn't want to fly in formation with the other ducks. I wanted to run on the beach. I didn't want to quack like the other ducks. I wanted to talk and solve crime. I wonder what it all means. Quack.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

middle school rejection

Apparently, this is a week full of nostalgia for me. I do tend to look back a lot, actually. I’m the type of person that likes to look at pictures and old journals and notes from people I don’t talk to anymore and think about stuff. Mostly how those people all kinda suck. And maybe how much better off I am now that I don’t talk to them anymore. This was the theme for my evening tonight. Buntport is doing this thing called Teacher’s Pet. Basically they have a theme and people have 5 minutes to read something or tell a story or sing a song about the theme. In February the theme was High School Confidential (old journal entries and yearbooks). I read from my journal from after 6th grade about my first kiss with Chris Davenport (he was dreamy . . . sigh . . . ) and then about my prom date (Brian Schoep) who made out with my friend Andrea in her tree-house at the after party. So last night, the theme was break-up notes and rejection letters. The only real break-up note that I have ever received was actually from three of my friends in the 8th grade. It reads like this:

Becca- (my name was actually misspelled Rebbeca on the front of the note- and these were my CLOSE friends!)

We talked it over and decided we don’t like you anymore.

Love, Allison, Erin and Elizabeth K.

[PS] I know it’s mean, but we aren't the only ones who feel this way. Take what you do
(like cry to[o] much) into consideration.

That’s it. Two sentences. At the time (as you can imagine) that note rocked my world. When I
look back on it now (more than 10 years later) that note actally was a turning point in my life. That note helped me make the final decision about where I was going to go to high school. Up until that point, I was still considering going to South, because that was where all of my friends were going. Of course, when three of your good friends give you a note like this, the idea of going to four more years of school with them becomes a bit less appealing. The great thing is that I went to West, met some great people (including Mitch) who introduced me to more great people (including the Buntporters) so when you think about it, that note led me to being onstage last night reading that note. If they had never written that to me, maybe I would have gone to South, never met anyone and would therefore not have been at Buntport last night to read (plus I wouldn’t have had anything to read). Or maybe (if you believe in fate) I would have found my way to Buntport last night anyway, because that is what was meant to be. Or something. Anyway, so that note changed my life. And even though at the time it was painful (middle school girls are mean!) my life is better for it. I think I am a better person and I think that my life has gone in a better direction. So thank you to Allison, Erin and Elizabeth K, wherever you are, for rejecting me; it’s meant a lot to me

On another note: Shout out to my friends the Flobots (no w). I saw them at Herman's Hideaway on Sat night. You can see them
at Red Rocks with the fray on August 6th. Or if you don't want to wait that long (or pay that much) see them at Cervantes Ballroom on May 11. And thanks for always inspiring me guys. I love ya.

You are not alone
You don't have to do this on your own
You won't have to prove yourself to get through this
Don't have to lose yourself to this music
In fact you might find yourself
In a room full of strangers trying to help
In a flashback to the last time you felt
The presence of something divine well, this is
Hip-hop it's not just for profit anymore never was
It's too easy to live your life waiting for change to arrive if it ever does
It will come from a source that's infinite, not from a middle man
You can't measure it's force but you've got a sense of it,
and it's bigger than Hip (hop)

it's larger than life/death

much greater than us/them

One Love Agape One Love Agape

Thursday, April 19, 2007

years gone by . . .

This week at my school, the seniors are doing their portfolio presentations. The portfolios hold all of their best work from the past four years: papers, projects, pictures, awards and whatever else they can fit into it. The presentation is their chance to talk about all the stuff they've done and showcase their work. As I've been watching some of these presentations, I have been thinking a lot about my senior year and my portfolio presentation and my friends. It got me thinking about how the two people that I was closest to then are no longer a part of my life and how sad that is.

I never thought at the time that I would be looking back 7 years later and wondering what went wrong with our friendships. With Derek, the answer is a little bit eaiser. He left DU, I went abroad, we drifted apart and then stopped talking all together. With Nichole, the situation is a bit more complicated. I never thought that anything could come between me and Nichole. We had been there for eachother through it all: bad boyfriends, school stress, parent issues. Even living 3000 miles away didn't tarnish our friendship. We talked often, hung out whenever she was home and I even went to visit her at Smith twice.

When she moved back to Denver, it was only natural that we would move in together. A lot of people warned me about living with friends: the fastest way to ruin a friendship is sex, the second fastest is becoming roommates. But is wasn't like that for us. We lived together great. I liked to cook, she liked to clean. Neither one of us had a lot of loud parties. Our movie collections complemented eachother without too many duplicates. We were good friends, but we had our own seperate lives. We always knew that we were there for eachother to talk to. Occasionally we would have some issues (don't even get me started on the whole Irene business), but overall we lived together well. Which is why the whole thing is still so upsetting to me. I don't even really know what happened. Now I know she was unhappy, but at the time, she didn't confide in me about what was going on. She just left. After trying to get in touch with her about her bed, I haven't attempted communication. I know (from her blog and the grapevine) that she came home for Christmas and Spring Break. More than anything, I just want to know her side of the story. Was she as hurt over the events that went down as I was? Does she ever think about me and what our friendship could have been?

I look back at that period at the end of our senior year with some degree of sadness, because I never though it would be quite like this. I hope that these kids stay better friends than we managed to.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Is it summer yet?

Anyone that has been in Denver over the past few months knows how brutal this winter has been for all of us. We're just not used to not seeing the sun for two months. That's why we live in D-town and not in Seattle or Minnesota or something. And it's been cold. I've run out of sweaters. Usually I wear my short sleves as much as my scarves in the winter. Let me tell you, I'm tired of it.

There are a few things that mean summer for me in Denver. Sunny mornings with an afternoon thunderstorm: Summer in Denver. Lots of great concerts: Summer in Denver. Kickball: Summer in Denver.

Yesterday was a first taste of summer for me. It was sunny and warm and wonderful. Kickball. I love kickball. It's kinda weird, casue I hate baseball. So you would think that I would hate kickball also. But I don't, I love it. I love playing and I even love watching. Maybe it is just because it is my friends playing and I have such a good time. But what ever makes me love it, I do. And yesterday was great. Science was there to represent in our fuscia and argyle, I got to see some great people that I haven't seen in a while (and a few that I see all the time) and I played really good. I scored the first point of the game, and even though we ended up losing (11-6) it was a pre-season game, so it didn't really matter. It felt good to be out on the field again. I think that this is going to be a good summer. . . if it ever gets here.

Sunday, April 8, 2007

I'm not afraid of:
small spaces
the dark
getting older
falling in love

I am afraid of:
being lonely
not ever falling in love
not experiencing my life
missing something
becoming my mother
getting left behind
not seeing the world
being boring
being afraid

Friday, April 6, 2007

busy week. . . but what's new?

Wow, I have had a really busy week. It started with the wonderful wedding weekend (look at that alliteration!) of my best friend, Rachel. I got to be a pretty, pretty bridesmaid: get my hair and nails done, wear a dress that actually doesn’t suck (except the dinosaur zipper) and be there for my oldest (as in I’ve known her the longest, not that she is really old) friend. And I got to hang out with all her cool friends that I really love a lot (specially my bm buddies). Anyway, yeah for best friend’s weddings. Fun.

Other fun things this week: kickball, mahjong, cooking club, field trips and buntport.

So let’s talk about Buntport. If you’ve never heard of Buntport, don’t worry, you will. I believe that some day, the Buntporters are gonna be big. Like Monty Python or the Kids in the Hall or some other famous funny people. For now, Buntport can only be experienced in Denver (or occasionally at fringe festivals around the country. What is Buntport? It is more than a theatre, more than a warehouse . . . Buntport is an experience.

The current show is Moby Dick. It was hilarious. Moby Dick funny? Funny and wet. And great. You know the basic story of the Big White Whale: crazy sea captain, obsessed with killing the whale that ate his leg, ends up killing his whole crew except Ishmael who survives so he can tell the tale. So how does Buntport make this classic tale new and original and great? Their inventive use of props, sets and costumes, their superb acting, wonderful writing and fantastic style. Everything they do is completely Buntport, yet always completely original. I’ve never been bored at a show and that’s not a comment that can be made about very many theatres. Plus, I kinda have a crush on one of the actors. So that helps. I love Buntport. And you should too. If you are in Denver, go see them. If you are not in Denver, come to Denver so that you can go see them. Seriously. Love it. Also, go see trunks and starship troy. Really, do it. I’m not kidding. I’ll see you there, Ok? Awesome.

Monday, April 2, 2007

I know, you're right, it took me long enough to get around to starting a blog of my own. I have been resisting for a long time. I've been keeping a journal (a regular, written down kind) forever. I mean since like seventh grade. I've been journaling half my life. I love looking back on my journals and remembering just was I was feeling at the time that I was writing. I have also been sending e-mail updates for a long time, particularly as I've traveled. So is it time to combine these two endevors? I feared that keeping a journal online wouldn't work well for me. Would I stop writing in my normal journal? Would I start to censor myself because it was now public. I'm sure that these are concerns that many bloggers have. And that word! "Blogger" I hate that word. People are so annoying about their blogs sometimes. Am I going to be like that? Anyway, so I'm getting past my issues and I'm posting an entry and I guess I will have to wait and see where it takes me.