I don’t know how I should begin to tell you guys how happy I was when I took a break from my reading/collaging/venting/crying to check my inbox. All of your wonderful comments were neatly chained together in an email from WordPress, and the warmth that I felt after reading every one of them was just… astounding. I’m not really a “online confession” type of person to begin with—I’d take a handwritten letter over a ten-page email any day. I find online communication to be very impersonal, and it’s frightening to me how much easier it is to lie and pretend to be courageous when I know that no one can see my tears.
But yesterday, I looked in my inbox and received a big, fat “Hello, welcome to blogland” thump in the head. For the first time, I had poured my true feelings out for the world wide web to see in the moments succeeding complete hysteria. This is the real blogging community that so many others have written praise and thanks for—a community built on mutual love and support, with comfort during the dark hours and funny emoticons and exclamation marks during the brighter ones. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all. And by the way, I’ve got your backs, girlies. ;)
Here’s an excerpt of a post I wrote a couple of days ago and was planning to publish before… stuff happened. I don’t want to let it go to waste, so I’m just putting this out there!
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I have an innate distrust in weathermen. There were too many instances when I was younger where I would hear even the mention of snow and grow ecstatic, because school was going to be canceled!… and then nothing. Or that a huge tornado was coming our way, take cover or die!…. annnd nothing. To this day, whenever I hear “snow” or “hurricane” or any kind of news about possible inclement weather, my brain automatically pops the question, Will school be canceled?
Well, as Google Weather promised, it began to snow this morning. Light, almost invisible flakes streamed down from the sky—the kind of snow that you can only see clearly for an instant when the wind picks up and pushes the trillions of tiny snowflakes together. I watched them, not with the cute little smile of a fourth-grader who found out that she would be able to play in the snow, but with the sullen, wrinkly frown of an eighty-year-old grandma, cursing the fact that she ran out of flour to bake with for her granddaughter’s birthday cake. With the snow, the roads are muuuch too dangerous to go out and get it now…
But no, I’m not that grandma—not yet, anyway. With my supposed-to-be-observant science nerd analytical skills, the first thing I infer from the scenery is that “It ain’t enough for them to cancel school.”
Yes, because it’s Saturday, and the school board will have to “argue” about that anyway… Sigh. I think I’ll be trapped in this mindset until I am a grandma, unless I move to SoCal or Florida or a place where I will never have to think like that again. Actually, I think I just may be on an equal level with a grandma now. After all, I go to all these restaurants where old grandmas gather and eat and wear antique pearls and sweaters and chat about… well, who knows what they chat about…
What would’ve tied this whole post together is a breakfast with a sprinkling of coconut shavings as a foodie imitation of freshly fallen snow. Or even a schmear of the coconut butter that I wanted to, but never did buy, at least not this week. But alas, I’m going to spend the next couple of days desperately trying to eat up my Great Harvest Sunflower Crunch bread, because according to Kath, it takes at least a week for it to go stale. … Oops… it’s already been more than a week! Putting things in perspective, though, I’m the only one who eats it, and I only have about one-fourth of it left. ‘Sides, if it does indeed become stale, I can always make bread pudding with it, à la Mitri. Or croutons. ;)
A proper picture of my raw cheese-and-butter-on-toast-with-sea salt action.
… what a healthy combo, hehe…
… and today:
Vanilla and green tea make quite a delicious balance of rich tinged with bitterness.
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I’ll be off now. I have to study, study, STUDY for my giant history test tomorrow, and I’m basically brain-dead from attempted creative thinking for about two and a half hours. Sigh. Beginning of the new semester = tougher workload begins. We’re doing spontaneous essays in bio now, too—fun stuff! :D D: Yeah… I’ll try not to completely obsess over my work. What’s sad is that all the stereotypes about my school are true. I die a little inside when I see the skinny guys in glasses congregating in the halls discussing physics theories and calculator programming. Or the guy in one of my classes who runs to his precalc teacher at every possible opportunity and got a 106.2% in his class… or, something that I discovered last night: there are such things as Starcraft parties.
Won’t comment on that. I’ll do my best to keep posted on what’s going down with you lovely bloggettes, and until then… peace :)
ox ~ candice