Prayers for Dahar
I think, if memory serves me correctly, that a good blogging pal of mine was down in Louisiana somewhere. If you see this, dahar, (although how you would I don't know since you probably don't have power) know that we're all thinking of you. Hope you're ok.
Om Hmmmmm
Results with the mantra :So far, nothing too promising, but I do have 38 days left to go. A lot can happen in 38 days. Stay tuned...
A Little Ronery
As school has started, I'm feeling a distinct absence of people I was used to seeing during the summer. Luke, a friend from the office, being one of them. It's pretty much impossible to make friends at a junior college as everyone rushes off after class to work or home. But that's the nature of the beast, I guess. Although I'm sure that living in a dorm would drive me nuts, the people around to hang out with is a plus.
Today I started a fourty day mantra discipline.
The one I chose is Sat Patim Dehi Parameshwara. It translates to Please give to me a man of truth who embodies the perfect masculine attributes. I figured it was worth a shot.
Also decided today thatI was going to learn Hindi. I had a dream last night and in it I learned Hindi and went to India to teach little children how to read and write in the remote villages. So, while I may not be planning to go to India soon, I still thing that learning Hindi would be a good thing. I think I'll have no problem speaking it, but reading it might be a different matter.
Waxing poetic
Something I wrote for Poetry class that I suppose I'm proud of:
I’m Not Coming Down for Dinner
Clinging to the mast of a great oak galleon,
Thoughts wave and fray
Like battered flags.
Here, time is measured in sway.
Daylight drips through holes in leaves
Casting stars over everything like a tin lantern.
The rough limbs, their knobby hammock,
Knead premature worry from knotted young muscle.
The experienced hand of an elderly oak
Rocking its charge,
In a cradle of leaves and wind.
Mixing Work and Pleasure
I hear many times that dating a co-worker is a bad idea. I understand the argument. You could be so absorbed in the person that you don't do your job as well as you should, or if you break up, that might be a source of future awkwardness.
But what if that person that lights your heart on fire and makes you smile more than you ever thought was possible, what if they happen to be one desk over? Should you ignore love just because of it's tricky placement? Is it possible to seperate the two enough to function normally?
These things have been on my mind after a conversatin with a girl I work with. It seems all the girls in the office want to set me up with the guy who shares my desk. (They feel sorry for me mostly, I think.) He's a great guy but I think perhaps this one's destined to be a good friend. His friendship means more to me than any silly relationship.
One big Sociology experiment
Ahh, the first day of school... The "hallowed halls," the old "alma mater" (whatever that means), the smell of new textbooks and nervous freshmen....
Doesn't quite have the allure it promises.
I have a feeling I'll be stuck with the same kinds of dim-witted people that are at a place like junior college. Oh well. The least I can do is be friendly.
Perhaps I'll try my hand at being a teacher's pet. Or see if I can conquer the most unfriendly and strict of professors, to get them to treat me civil-like.
My mother gave me such a great idea recently, that I think I've had a bit of an epiphany on that whole, what are you going to do with your life thing. Kindergarten teacher. Yep. How fun would that be?? I guess if you hate kids, then it would be some sort of hell, but I just happen to love them. And I'm great with keeping order. I guess that's one of the benefits of having a strict mother and going to prep school.
OUCH
I recieved the first letter of three months from Andrew today, and he's decided to stay in Colorado. [b][i]For good.[/i][/b] Who does that without telling their girlfriend?
The letter basically read, "I'm staying, you belong with someone else, have a nice life."
HE COULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT 3 MONTHS AGO!
It's not a crying, mascara-running-down-your -face, I-hate-men type of hurt, but more the squished-by-a-ton of-bricks-from-nowhere,-n ow-what type of hurt.
Uggh. I feel a bit sick to my stomach.
Broke and loving it
Besides some minor flaws, though, I got a good one as far as cars go. Didn't have enough money for a gyro, but I did find some pita and hummus in the fridge...
