the canyon of looooooove

Goooooooin' to the canyon and we're gonna be touuuurists. Goin' to the canyon and we're gonna be touuurists. Goin' to the canyon of love! Or at least the big one up north. Pics and stories when I return, pretties.

what i don't say, to at least one and maybe some of you

You and your family (newest member included) are always home to me.

I'm not sure what's happening here and can't begin to predict the outcome. Usually, this terrifies me. For now, I'm content to watch with curiosity. I think it must be something about you.

Some days, I miss the way we were with a ridiculous ferocity, but then I remember what we traded it for and have a hard time coming up anything but even.

There are perfect Arizona evenings, when the sun has begun to set and the temperature has begun to cool, that I wish you were on my porch with me, drinking beer, laughing, (I'd even become a smoker again, for you) and telling me your crazy stories because seeing you a couple of times a year has never been enough.

I think you will make it through this unscathed.

I think you will not.

I sometimes regret not pushing you more, about that. But when I think about the various outcomes, I think the decision I made was a good one. That cancels regret, right?

I know what you're afraid of and honestly, if I were you, I'd be afraid, too. That's why I have so much patience and endless will around you. No one has ever, best as I can tell, told you this before, but: you deserve at least that much and probably considerably more. You are deserving. And forgiven.

You have never given me anything but unconditional support and the space in which to make my own decisions, on my own time. I hope I can always return the same to you.

on writing

"I've always thought it would be wonderful to be a writer," she says. "To know, just like that, how to put the right words together."

I smile politely. The truth is, if I do miraculously manage to put the right words together, it's by default, because I've already used up all the wrong ones. And when you get right down to it, what I don't say is probably more important than what I do.

--Vanishing Acts, Jodi Picoult.

wisco, in 5 stories.

1. This cat:



doesn't love me much (she doesn't love anyone much, actually), but her people sure do. Holla plungers and baked cheese and rainy farmers' markets, loves.

2. Say what you will about the Midwest (I know I've said plenty), but people there are effin' nice and effin' generous. In the four minutes I observed a white, hippie-lookin' couple in their late 20s or early 30s, complete with two dogs, standing in the rain on the busiest corner of my little hometown, replete with "TRAVELIN', BROKE & HUNGRY" sign, 2 people gave them cash from their cars, one woman brought a sack of stuff from the convenience store across the street and one guy pulled over and gave them a pizza.

3. These people:



are obviously gorgeous. And intelligent. And T-Rex has tiny hands. And these people love me a lot. And vice versa.

4. This chick:



rocks my world AND taught me how to knit. Come visit soon, cheri. I miss you already.

5. Wisconsin is beautiful in ways the desert never can be, namely:



and the lush, lush greenery of the spring.

in the thick of it

In oh so many ways, my friends. But the way I want to focus on right now, while I am enjoying our cool house in 90 degree weather (sorry Heather and Josh! You can move in, though, if you wanna.), is my final paaaaaaaaaaapers. I know I come and post the same thing at the end of every semester (or at least, at the end of last, heh), but seriously. As Matt said today, "Dude. Why do we have to write papers again? If you've been thinking and talking... why do you need to show what you've been thinking?" Ha. I am in the midst of writing my thesis proposal (panic! panic!) concurrently with a literature review that will probably appear in my thesis at some point. Paper #1, most of which was written about 6 weeks ago, is done. I estimate my proposal is probably 60% done. The other paper? Haaaaaaaahahaha. No worries, though. I work best under deadline pressure, so I ought to write more blogs and procrastinate more, no?