A Poem for Sarah,

We climb from the waves,
brown and stiff
never brushing our hair
and calling ourselves warriors
conquerors of seas.
We snicker to ourselves
about the heritage we have discovered
of Atlantian blood.

Some question the value of salt water
we know its good for the soul.
It creeps into bones
through our developing wrinkles.
Laying out sweet and satisfied,
Drying like prunes.
Drying like sand.
Drying like towels.

We are the wild hair and wicked eyes
of the beach
and for each other.

We are the whip of the moment.
The snap,
crackle,
pop.
We think about scavenging for sustenance.
But for now the sun is too wonderful,
and we are too blessed.

You and I,

Don't you worry there my honey
We might not have any money
But we've got our love to pay the bills

Maybe I think you're cute and funny
Maybe I want to do what bunnies do with you
If you know what I mean

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parent's homes
In the south of France
Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters
And teach them how to dance

Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain
Making everybody look like ants
Way up there, you and I, you and I

Well you might be a bit confused
And you might be a little bit bruised
But baby how we spoon like no one else

So I will help you read those books
If you will soothe my weary looks
And we can put the lonesome on the shelf

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parent's homes
In the south of France
Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters
And teach them how to dance

Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain
Making everybody look like ants
Way up there, you and I, you and I

This is my first summer song. I hope listening to it on repeat can bring a bit of its magic into my life.

May 6, come quickly,

Its a funny sort of feeling to have friends across the world.

All week I've gotten text messages painting pictures for me of sipping rum and cokes while looking over the beaches of Zanzibar. Zanzibar isn't like Paris or London in the way that I might see them someday. Zanzibar will probably stay as an experience only they had. It will be a spot I don't ever know. Like some places in London might be just for me.

But now I'm no longer waiting. I'm anticipating. They're coming home. And I missed them.

We've been traveling for a long time. I say we because even the experience of being at school without them has been new and exciting. We will continue to travel, but it will never be as concentrated again.

They had internet a few days ago, and ran through the rain to get to computers and spoke to me while I sat up in bed at three AM, typing quietly so as not to wake my room mate. But I didn't email them days in advance like I sometimes did. This is because everyday they get closer. Everyday the distances between us is shrinking. Traveling to Toronto to fetch them is an event not far on my planner.

Africa, I'm putting you on notice. Send my friends back in one piece.

Lessons,

Sometimes, when I'm just standing in an open space, my thoughts don't really have anything to bounce against and they get far to wide and wandering. And then something occurs to me.

I realized something. "Baby Christians" tend to expect a lot of pats on the back. And sometimes I think God gives it to them. I also don't think this is a bad thing.

However, as we get older God gives us a bit more rein. And sometimes when we say, "I am willing to wait" it actually means we're going to wait. It doesn't mean God is going to be so proud of you for saying it, that you will get whatever it was you wanted immediately.

And sometimes the waiting could take a very long time. I'm in the process of waiting right now. I feel like some days I send up really optimistic little prayers to God to show him just how okay I am with it. But its one of those, "Look at me, God. Not only am I tortured over this, I'M SMILING AT THE SAME TIME! Hey, maybe my present is around the corner," prayers.

That's not what God wants. I think something what would make Him happier is for us to be unhappily waiting as long as we were honest with him about how it made us feel. But then again, I can't say for sure. I do know that even being unhappily waiting, God hasn't caved and given in. But maybe that's the whole point.

Springtime, which isn't quite here yet

There is a moment in Tess of the D'Urbervilles where Tess is falling in love with Angel. They work together on a dairy farm and everyone knows that someone must be falling in love because the cream keeps curdling (or something like that). But still, someones heart was changing and nature refused to behave the way it was supposed to.

April 15 is a day that in my mind says spring. March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, but April is definitely supposed to be spring. And yet here I am, in Houghton, cold. On April 6 we had snow. On April 13 it was raining and a chilly forty degrees. Even today, it peak at a high 45 and people started putting on shorts. Spring has yet to come to Houghton, and my bones are telling me that it should be here already.

But there aren't any green leaves on the trees and there isn't any fresh grass on the ground. Nature seems strangely unwilling to burst into action this year. Why? Could it be something like that event in Tess of the D'Urbervilles? Could there be someone who is unwilling to accept something that their heart is telling them? Could that person be me?

Realization,

Lately, I've been going through a period of funny little realizations.

One is that I was raised in church basements and fed generic brand cookies and orange colored drink. I love this part of my child hood in a way I'm thankful for and scared of losing.

Two is that I have read so many books about love. Books about boys and girls and the mistakes they make and the way they hurt each other. I've also realized that one way or another I have learned to keep myself from getting hurt - by never taking a chance.

Three is that you can never predict peoples behavior.

And four is the most important. I realized that I will be home again this summer. So island, buckle down and get ready.

More conversations that make me smile,

Chocltkiss1988 (6:27:56 PM): So, ah, what are we doing this weekend?

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:05 PM): dancing

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:07 PM): picnic

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:08 PM): strand

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:12 PM): making fun of people

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:13 PM): being awesome

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:43 PM): all of the above.

GASP ITS GLESS (6:28:48 PM): HOWS THAT FOR AN ANSWER
Chocltkiss1988 (6:32:32 PM): Why can't I come home now

GASP ITS GLESS (6:32:55 PM): because the stars have no yet aligned to allow our auras to be back in tune with one another.

GASP ITS GLESS (6:33:00 PM): the universe needs to be ready for us!
Chocltkiss1988 (6:33:31 PM): I forgot to tell you this really great grandma quote from the other day

Chocltkiss1988 (6:33:38 PM): I called her because I was homesick and whatever

Chocltkiss1988 (6:34:17 PM): And she said, I swear to God, "Well, the fact that you and Sarah love each other so much is just PROOF of how fabulous my grand-daughters are."

GASP ITS GLESS (6:34:23 PM): AHHHH

GASP ITS GLESS (6:34:25 PM): WE ARE SO CUTE

Chocltkiss1988 (6:34:29 PM): HOW DO THOSE TWO THINGS CONNECT GRANDMA

Planning ahead,

Chocltkiss1988 (11:00:29 PM): This is how I see my summer going

Chocltkiss1988 (11:00:30 PM): Blondes

Chocltkiss1988 (11:00:32 PM): Beaches

Chocltkiss1988 (11:00:36 PM): And Tuscarora

Bluetigers83111 (11:01:13 PM): which is always the perfect summer

Bluetigers83111 (11:01:15 PM): and a little of

Bluetigers83111 (11:01:17 PM): Manhattan

Bluetigers83111 (11:01:20 PM): and we're good

I didn't enjoy being told stories as a child. I liked watching them and I liked reading them but my interest began and ended there. The only time I can remember asking for a story was inquiring about other people's love stories.

My mother and father had a magnificent story. He rescued her from going to a school dance alone. She was his little sister's best friend. She's been afraid it would be awkward, but then it wasn't.

My aunt came home from school one Easter and declared to her mother that she's met the man she was going to marry. "What's his name?" my grandmother asked. "I don't know his last name," she answered, "but it doesn't matter. I'm marrying him." and she did.

Three Virtues Before Bedtime,