I have come down ill, along with most of this little campus.
So, I am chugging herbal tea as I type, and I hope to go to bed early.
My mother says they're thinking about getting another free dog. The last dog that was given to us was a Jack Russell Terrier, and overall he's been a good one,
he's cute, and not the least bit psychotic (as, evidently, Jack Russell Terriers often are). He's actually very laid-back and human . . . so human, in fact, that he's not much fun as a playmate. But hey, at least he's not psycho.
This new dog has been represented to us as being hyperactive, however. He is another terrier - a Boston terrier. I was unsure what these looked like so I ran a photo search on Google. It brought this up:
. . . now, okay, in a way, it's a cute dog, and then again, if you were looking for the exemplar form of cuteness, this mutt would NOT be it. Quite frankly, if it's going to be psycho-pup, as far as I'm concerned this face is not enough to save it from a quick and painless death.
Now, then again, considering the situation, I'm getting married in a few months, so the greatest amount of time I'd have to live with this animal would be . . . six weeks - not even that. Mind you, those will probably be the most stressful six weeks of my life to date, and a little yapping weirdo may only intensify the insanity, but let's not borrow our worries . . . we have enough of those.
On other musings . . .
I have been missing my second obsession to an absurd degree this semester. As we get closer to the wedding my separation anxiety seems to be intensifying. I have almost run into people twice this week, closing my eyes as I walked back to the dorm - taking in sensations and remembering the past. The smell of the air helps me to remember how it was to have him beside me, so I breathe it in, deep and slow. Why is it that it was so much easier to notice the smell of the sagebrush, the sound of the rain, the softness of the breeze, when he was here? If I close my eyes and try to sense all these things like I used to, my memory becomes so beautifully clear, and when I open them again I cannot help but think that, even if it is a sorrow, at least I can rest in the fact that it's a sweet one, and a temporary one, too.
I know, mushy stuff. Sometimes I just gotta let it out, k?
Pax Christi,
Me
So, I am chugging herbal tea as I type, and I hope to go to bed early.
My mother says they're thinking about getting another free dog. The last dog that was given to us was a Jack Russell Terrier, and overall he's been a good one,
he's cute, and not the least bit psychotic (as, evidently, Jack Russell Terriers often are). He's actually very laid-back and human . . . so human, in fact, that he's not much fun as a playmate. But hey, at least he's not psycho.This new dog has been represented to us as being hyperactive, however. He is another terrier - a Boston terrier. I was unsure what these looked like so I ran a photo search on Google. It brought this up:
. . . now, okay, in a way, it's a cute dog, and then again, if you were looking for the exemplar form of cuteness, this mutt would NOT be it. Quite frankly, if it's going to be psycho-pup, as far as I'm concerned this face is not enough to save it from a quick and painless death.Now, then again, considering the situation, I'm getting married in a few months, so the greatest amount of time I'd have to live with this animal would be . . . six weeks - not even that. Mind you, those will probably be the most stressful six weeks of my life to date, and a little yapping weirdo may only intensify the insanity, but let's not borrow our worries . . . we have enough of those.
On other musings . . .
I have been missing my second obsession to an absurd degree this semester. As we get closer to the wedding my separation anxiety seems to be intensifying. I have almost run into people twice this week, closing my eyes as I walked back to the dorm - taking in sensations and remembering the past. The smell of the air helps me to remember how it was to have him beside me, so I breathe it in, deep and slow. Why is it that it was so much easier to notice the smell of the sagebrush, the sound of the rain, the softness of the breeze, when he was here? If I close my eyes and try to sense all these things like I used to, my memory becomes so beautifully clear, and when I open them again I cannot help but think that, even if it is a sorrow, at least I can rest in the fact that it's a sweet one, and a temporary one, too.
I know, mushy stuff. Sometimes I just gotta let it out, k?
Pax Christi,
Me
3 comments:
Holy freaking moses, you are blogging again.
Mush on...
(sorry, I am catching the 'terse' disease from adeomata)
*sneeze*
Smell is the most memory- and emotion-triggering sense for me.
I love the smell of California dirt cracking under the sun (the smell of trial running as a freshman),
the smell of april fresh downy fabric softener (some nearby students' mother uses it),
the smell of snow,
the smell of the convent living room in MA,
the smell of St. Monica's downstairs hall, etc., etc. Even the smell of our sulfur pits is comforting because of the memories. :o)
(by the way, there are four a's in adeoamata- the abbreviation does make it a little easier to say... but impossible to translate.)
This makes me nostalgic and I've only been there, to speak of, once. The air does have a softness to it, at least in the winter/early spring, that is dreamlike. How good it is that you have been there!
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